


the tragedy and torture of music

by scorned



Category: Portrait de la jeune fille en feu | Portrait of a Lady on Fire (2019)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Enemies to Lovers, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-14
Updated: 2020-09-17
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:42:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 54,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24711802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scorned/pseuds/scorned
Summary: An independent, uncompromising art history student is forced to be partners with a pretentious, careless english student.
Relationships: Héloïse & Marianne (Portrait of a Lady on Fire), Héloïse/Marianne (Portrait of a Lady on Fire)
Comments: 155
Kudos: 416





	1. Chapter 1

One more semester. Just one until Marianne graduates with a Bachelor of Arts for art history. It’s been a tough past 3 years for her, but her determination and desire to satisfy her parents’ wishes are keeping her from dropping out. In their will, they have left her everything, being the only child has its benefits. But in fine print, it says that in order for her to inherit the art gallery with art worth over millions, she would have to complete a degree in art history.

Luckily for her, her father was very good at selling and buying art. He has one of the most popular art galleries in Paris and people from all over the world come to see it. Some even say that the Merlant Gallery rivals Le Louvre, but those people are sycophants, trying to gain free entry for another night. It takes months to gain a reservation for the gallery – making it a very popular destination for proposals. Marianne has definitely witnessed many cringey ones in her life.

She’s scrolling through her phone, checking her social medias on a snowy Monday morning, trying to keep warm under two blankets. Her feeds are filled with people complaining about going back to school after the Christmas break, funny things that have already happened on campus and one too many outfits of the day pictures. While scrolling, she gets a text from Charline – her best friend since childhood and now roommate.

**Charline:** you up?

**Marianne:** yes unfortunately.

**Charline:** I have to be on camp for 10

**Marianne:** me too

**Charline:** okay imma shower

Marianne hears noise coming from the room beside her. She hears a loud bang then a slew of curse words through the thin walls. She laughs, knowing that Charline probably tripped over her clothes on the ground. She hears the door open, steps that drag on the hardwood flooring then the shower being turned on.

Thanks to her parents, before they passed, they bought her an apartment in Paris, near the university. It’s only a 10-minute walk away and everything essential is close enough. Though, with the money that her parents left, she bought a car so travelling is never an issue anyway.

Marianne stays on her phone while Charline showers. She looks over her schedule, only having one class and a seminar today. She sighs knowing that today will be very mundane, mainly introductory things. She wonders why every professor insists on going through the syllabus as if fourth years haven’t learnt how to read by now. Unfortunately, she’s going to have to attend anyway because her class sizes are small and the professors definitely will recognise her. Many already know her due to her family name.

Thirty minutes later, Marianne and Charline are sitting at their dining room table waiting for the possible minute to leave. Charline is chewing on a piece of buttered toast while Marianne finishes the last drop of her coffee.

“Any exciting classes this semester?” Charline asks with a mouth full of bread.

“I have that hot prof lecturing today. From last year if you remember,” Marianne answers.

“That one class that I sat in on? The delicious looking hunk?” Charline’s deep brown eyes are wide.

“Yes,” Marianne smiles at her best friend. Marianne had told her she had a hot male professor teaching her European art last semester and Charline insisted that she needed to see for herself.

“I would do anything to get a piece of that ass.”

“Stop that,” Marianne fakes a gag. “He’s like 45.”

“Only makes him hotter.”

Minutes later, both of them exit the door into the chill winter air. Marianne opted in wearing a black hoodie under a black winter jacket with blue denim ripped jeans, while Charline decided on wearing a nice floral shirt underneath red winter jacket with black jeans. Marianne wears her shoulder length hair down. Each breath they took was visible in a cloud of smoke.

They’re both walking side by side on a busy wide sidewalk, weaving between people. Most seem to be students going to various universities around Paris and few workers late for the day. The sun is peaking through tall buildings, giving some warmth and a sense of peacefulness despite the loud, bustling environment around them.

It took them a little over 10 minutes to get to campus with the extra foot traffic and snow on the ground. It’s the first day of school so everyone convinces themselves that they’ll attend every class, but in a week, all the traffic should return to normal. Marianne says her good byes to Charline as they reach campus. Charline is a science student, doing something in microbiology, so she’s off to the science complex. She has explained it too many times to Marianne, but she can never remember.

Marianne finds her way to a large red brick building, making her way to the lecture hall. In the past 3 years, Marianne has failed to make any long-lasting friendships in her program. Most were pretending to be her friend due to her name or others were jealous and refused to even look at her. So, she sits in the back of the small classroom all alone.

Since she’s now a fourth-year student, they are crammed into the smaller classrooms due to the less students in each course. There are rows of bleak grey rectangular tables in line with one another, making rows. The seats are uncomfortably hard and everything feels a little too claustrophobic. Most of the class was already seated when she got there and class started a minute later.

It was dull. Nothing exciting happened but all the girls were fawning over the attractive professor. Marianne doesn’t pay any attention to him, instead she’s on her laptop texting Charline and looking at artwork to potentially buy. While Marianne in school, her aunt maintains and runs the art gallery. She was working with Marianne’s father when he passed and stepped up to help out.

After an hour, Marianne is let out of her class. She had another hour to kill before her seminar started. Sadly, Charline had another class and is unavailable to entertain Marianne. She decides to go to the art building where her seminar is being held. It’s the central building on campus. It’s small, black bricked with many white trimmed windows. It stands out, differing from the other buildings greatly.

Marianne sits at one of the empty tables in the lobby at the side. The sun shines through the many windows, giving the area a heavenly glow. It’s colder than she expected, but she finds the cold to be oddly pleasant. She has her sketchbook on the table and a pencil in hand as her eyes scan the surroundings for something to draw. There’s nothing that really catches her eye except the two girls sitting directly in front of her, talking to each other with their laptops open in front of them.

They’re close enough for Marianne to put detail into the sketch. One has blonde hair tied carelessly into a bun while the other has her brunette hair tied up in a pristine high ponytail. Marianne eyes scan the brunette and sees she is wearing a dress with a denim jacket over top while the blonde is in a green hoodie and black shorts. She finds their outfits odd. Clearly, they didn’t get the memo that it’s winter outside.

She commits the image to memory anyway and starts to sketch out the pair. Taking a picture with her eyes with a blink. She starts drawing the two. It is very rough; lines are placed without much thought but still legible. The blonde is on the left and the brunette on the right of the grey round table. Once the rough sketch was done, Marianne started to work on the finer details. She draws them without eyes. By the time she’s finished, she can start making her way to class. She doesn’t close the sketchbook, throwing it into her backpack without care.

She makes it to class with two minutes to spare after getting lost and her TA is already starting the seminar. She quietly takes a seat in the closest empty seat, not bearing mind to the person who is sitting there already. Marianne tries her best to be silent while taking out her laptop, but due to her carelessness, her sketchbook falls to the ground, disturbing the entire class. This earns her a dirty look from the TA and who she gives a shy apologetic smile to. All eyes were on her, many seemed annoyed.

The TA continues on as Marianne puts her laptop on the wooden table in front of her. She sees the person sitting beside her reach down to pick up the sketch book. Before Marianne can open her mouth, Marianne locks eyes with the person beside her. She has never seen eyes like hers before. So blue, very intense, and filled with rage. She quickly realizes that she also has blonde hair, and she’s wearing a green hoodie, and black shorts.

Marianne subconsciously studies all her features. Blank expression. Wide eyes that hold every emotion all at once. Thin blonde hair that falls out of the messy bun. Lips pressed into a firm line. Her jaw. Her neck. Marianne finds every inch breathtaking. Marianne compares her to the finest art; her eyes do not want to tear away.

Marianne’s eyes shoot to the opened sketchbook in the blonde’s hands. The blue eyes are no longer on her and looking at the drawing. Marianne grows nervous, hoping that she won’t recognise the location or the fact that it’s her, but there’s no way she wouldn’t know. Marianne’s breath is stuck in her throat, anticipating the reaction. Her face flushing red from embarrassment. Héloïse doesn’t offer any reaction. Her eyes just move across the paper with a blank face and tensed body.

Without any words shared or another glance, the blonde places the book down beside Marianne’s laptop and draws her attention to the front. No offered reaction makes Marianne feel nauseous, but she quickly grabs the sketchbook from the table and throws it into her backpack.

They don’t exchange anymore interactions for the duration of the teaching assistant’s introduction. Not even one look. Marianne sits still like a statue, worrying that any movement would gain the blonde’s attention. Marianne wasn’t really listening, as she was busy trying to answer emails regarding the art gallery, only her fingers and eyes move. Mostly housekeeping stuff such as paying rent and utilities. Her attention is drawn back to the TA when she hears group project. Her eyes are on the large projector screen at the front.

“So, for this entire semester you’ll be choosing and analyze famous composers from a historical and theoretical perspective. Here’s a list of approved composers, but if you want to do one not on the list then consult with me. I’ll leave a list at the front so you and your partner can sign up for who you want. Since we have even numbers and everyone is already sitting in pairs, you guys will be partners with the person next to you. Exchange contact information now. You can leave after you’ve decided on a composer. See you next week.” The TA sits after finishing her instructions.

Marianne regrets taking Tragedy, Technology and Torture of Music now. She assumed it would be an easy elective with only having a seminar and lecture once a week. As she scrolls through the class site, it seems like a lot more work than she bargained for. Every week was a different analytical perspective. And to top it all off, her partner saw the sketch that Marianne did of her and hasn’t said a word. Could it get any worse?

Marianne freezes, eagerly waiting for the blonde to make the first move. Marianne really hopes that she wouldn’t mention it or even realize it was her. Marianne doesn’t dare look her way or anywhere else, just scrolling through the class site to see what the instructions are for each seminar. She doesn’t even look at the projector screen in front to see the list of composers. She can feel her skin crawl as each second passes of silence between them.

“Can we do Vivaldi?” The lips are no longer in a firm line. The voice that escapes is unique. Raspy, but not too deep. Sounds heavenly to Marianne’s ears.

Marianne turns her attention towards the blonde, who isn’t looking at her. Her blue eyes are scanning the projector screen instead. “Yeah, sure,” Marianne responds. She’d admit that Héloïse is intimidating.

“Your name?”

“Marianne Mer-.”

Her partner stands from her seat before she could finish her sentence, sending annoyance coursing through her. The chair screeches against the tiled floor when being pushed back. It sends chills down Marianne’s spine. In one fluid motion, the blonde puts her laptop into her bed, slugs her back over her shoulder then is walking towards the front before Marianne could even process what happened. She watches the blonde write something down on the paper at the front of the class then walks out without looking back.

What a terrible first impression.

Marianne huffs in frustration from this interaction. She didn’t learn anything about her partner, not even her name. Marianne can already tell that the blonde is full of herself by the way she carries herself. Confident, secure, doesn’t give a shit about anything. Marianne already knows that she won’t like her partner based off this interaction. It’ll be an insufferable semester. First impressions were everything to the brunette. Marianne can’t wait to tell Charline about this. She packs up and exits the class.

Only 11 more weeks.


	2. Chapter 2

Charline is laughing uncontrollably on their old black leather couch. Thrashing around like a little kid being tickled. Marianne is sitting on the same couch turned towards her roommate having just finished her story about the incident in her music seminar. She has a slight pink hue to her cheeks out of embarrassment.

“Charline, please help me. I don’t know what to do.” Marianne shoves her head into her hands while groaning. Her palms dig into her eyes, making stars appear, trying to get way from reality.

“She sounds like an ass,” Charline says through breaths of laughter. “But that’s hilarious, why does everything bad happen to you?”

Marianne removes her hands from her eyes. She can see ripples in her vision as they return back to normal. “I don’t know, but I think I’m going to drop this class.”

“And what course are you going to take instead?” Charline is still trying to stifle her laughter. The hand covering her mouth is doing a poor job as chuckles escape its palm.

“Whatever you’re taking.” Marianne doesn’t ponder this question and is being dead serious.

Charline breaks out into another a fit of laughter after a poor attempt of suppressing it. Marianne’s not in the mood for this and it’s written all over her face. Charline tries her best to suppress herself when she sees the displeased face in front of her. Still with a huge smile on her face, she reaches over to give a reassuring pat on Marianne’s knee.

“You’ll hate my classes more than you’ll hate her. Just forget about it, you won’t see her again until next week and by then she’ll probably have forgotten about it herself.” Charline rubs her hand on the brunette’s knee.

Marianne finds some comfort in Charline’s words. Too much happens within a week for a normal university student, so the odds are the blonde would’ve have definitely forgotten about the sketch. Or at least Marianne hopes so. After their conversation has concluded, Marianne was starting to feel better about today.

After a quick shower, Marianne changes into a nice white blouse and some tailored black slacks. Her shoulder-length hair is tied up in a small bun. Marianne tries to help out around the gallery as much as she can during school. Her aunt understands the reality of Marianne’s busy schedule and appreciates the help whenever she gets it. Marianne arrives to the gallery in 15 minutes. The air is colder as the sun starts to descend down the greying sky, but the world around her doesn’t slow. It’s usually only an 8-minute drive, but the traffic in Paris is insane right now. Marianne exits her car that is parked behind the building and enter through the back.

The gallery is at full-capacity as always. They limit the space to 10 people at a time to maintain intimacy and less people means it’s easier to monitor them. Marianne greets the body guard that has been working here for the past 10 years as she walks in and hangs up her jacket in the closet flushed against the wall. He gives her a huge grin back. Marianne walks to the front to see her aunt sitting behind the white reception desk. Her eyes are focused on the computer screen.

The studio is quite large for downtown Paris. There are no windows on any of the three walls, only present on the entrance. At the entrance, there are two large glass doors with gold-plated handles that are polished every day in the middle with panels of glass on either side. The blacked-out shutters are always closed to not let any outsiders see the art and mostly to protect the painting from the sun’s UV rays. The walls are painted all white with a large rectangular structure in the middle to display more art.

Each wall holds four pieces of art, only ever displaying a total of 16 paintings at the gallery at once. Marianne and Megan usually buy, sell and trade art for the entire gallery once a year, every six months. This allows for those wanting to see a certain piece to book a reservation while it’s still in the gallery, and allows for returning clients to view different pieces of art. Marianne and Megan try to obtain a mixture of artwork, ranging from well-known artist and newer artist to provide exposure. It’s usually whatever they both liked, it would be in the gallery.

“Hey Megan,” Marianne greets her aunt with a smile. Megan and her have always been very close. More recently, after Marianne’s parents passed, Megan has stepped up to be her parent figure.

“Hey Marianne, how was school?” Megan doesn’t look away from the screen. Marianne can see that she’s busy scheduling people’s reservations.

Marianne leans over the desk with her arms on the edges. She leans in to whisper, “I met a girl.” Her voice is hushed, not to disturb the guest from looking at fine art.

Megan’s head snaps towards Marianne with a shocked expression plastered on her face. Her soft brown eyes hold excitement in them. Marianne has always gone to Megan for relationship advice since Megan is the only other lesbian in the family. She always gave Marianne great advice, though the younger brunette would never use it, but she appreciated it anyway. Marianne actually never listens to anyone.

“Who?” Her voice is equally as hushed as Marianne’s.

Marianne puts the back of her hand on her forehead in dramatic fashion, leaning back on the desk as if her knees were weak. Her voice is still hushed, but her voice is full of faked happiness. “She’s in my music seminar. We’re partners, we locked eyes once then never again. She walked out of the class without saying much.”

Megan rolls her eyes at her overzealous niece. Marianne has always been one for the dramatics. Must come with being the only child. Though, Megan finds the situation odd. “She just walked out?”

“Yes. Oh Megan, it was so romantic,” Marianne’s keeping up with the dramatics. She drops down further, her knees growing weaker. “She didn’t even tell me her name.”

“She sounds like a real keeper,” Megan responds sarcastically.

Marianne cuts the act with a smile on her face. She returns to the leaning over the desk. The conversation moves on after that theatrical performance. Mostly Marianne asks about Megan’s love life, Megan asks her about school and very little discussion about the art gallery itself. The studio closes at 3pm today, the schedule varying monthly with Megan and Marianne’s availability.

After the two spent time getting the studio cleaned and making sure all the art is unscathed, they both exit the studio from the back. Megan triple check the alarm system before the two of them start towards their cars. The sun manages to barely peak though the buildings, giving some warmth to Marianne under her jacket. The weather isn’t terribly cold, it’s a slight chill at best. When they reach the cars, Megan fishes through her purse for a pack of cigarettes. She used to never smoke while Marianne was growing up, but ever since her parents died, Megan became addicted.

They both lean against their cars facing each other in silence as Megan smokes her cigarette. Cars in the distance can be heard from the busy streets of downtown Paris. Marianne is scrolling through Instagram to see what Charline has sent her. She directly messaged her a profile under the username _h.haenel_. Charline put a caption beneath it: _Heard from a friend that she’s gay. She’s hot you should dm her_. Marianne curiously clicks on the profile and is immediately met with blonde hair and blue eyes. She freezes.

Marianne’s mouth hangs agape. Megan raises her eyebrow watching the younger girl stare at her phone. She exhales a cloud of smoke, “What?”

Marianne blinks a couple of times to regain composure before handing her the phone. Megan holds the phone in her hand that is free of the cigarette. She scans over the limited posts on her profile, then hands her back a phone after a second. She doesn’t say anything, just gauging Marianne’s reactions.

Marianne doesn’t say anything either. The air hangs silent between the two of them. Megan eyes scan for any change in expression. Marianne offers nothing. She read the biography.

_Héloïse Haenel_

_PSL English_ _20’_

_Followed by chlabonte and 2 others._

An English major. That explains everything. Marianne wonders why she’s in Tragedy, Technology and Torture of Music, but the thought quickly disappears. Héloïse’s account is public. She doesn’t follow many people, only 223 and 212 follow her back, but Marianne’s more curious about her three posts.

Marianne’s eyes scan as her fingers scroll on the glass screen. The first picture is of a brunette, posted a few hours ago. Marianne recognizes it from earlier, where she sketched the picture of the two girls sitting in the middle of the building’s foyer. The brunette is wearing the brightest and most genuine smile that Marianne has ever seen, clearly full of joy. The sun shined through the windows brighter and there was more colour in the building than Marianne remembers. It’s captioned: _lucky to have her_. She assumes it’s Héloïse’s girlfriend. The Instagram handle tagged is _sophlemarche_ and the account is private.

The second picture is of Héloïse and Sophie. They’re both dressed up very nicely, a causal yet formal look. Héloïse is wearing tight black turtle neck with a black blazer over top. There’s a long gold chain that hangs from her neck as a statement piece. Her arm is around Sophie’s shoulders, who wears a very tight black dress that makes Marianne’s eyes attract to her chest.

Sophie is turned into Héloïse, hugging her endearingly around the waist with the same genuine smile as before. Marianne finds this smile very captivating. It’s evident in this picture that Héloïse has a couple of inches on the smaller brunette. There’s a sly smirk on Héloïse’s face, the way her lips curved looked so natural. She looks so cocky, as if she’s the hottest person in the room. Marianne can’t help but find her attractive, even though she wants to wipe that stupid smirk off the blonde’s face. The caption is _STUPID – Ashnikko (feat. me)._

Marianne really wants to wipe that smirk off now. Over-confidence is never hot.

The last picture is of Héloïse in a black t-shirt with black ripped jeans held up by a black belt with gold buckle. There’s a gold chain around her neck, just peeking out from under the t-shirt. Her face isn’t showing, the picture cuts off at her chin. Héloïse’s right hand has a thumbed tucked and relaxed in her jean pocket, the left arm is bent and holding her forearm. Marianne admires the blonde’s style, finding that she can pull off simple outfits and look so Marianne can clearly see the full-sleeve.

It’s intricately shaded. Marianne can see a rose on the outside of the blonde’s wrist, but the rest is illegible. Marianne tries to zoom in, but accidentally likes it instead. A large white heart pops up in the middle of her picture and Marianne feels her heart start to explode.

“Shit!” Marianne says in a panic, shaking her hand with the phone in it. Her breath leaves a cloud of smoke in the air. “Fuck!”

Megan stands from leaning against her car, still with a cigarette in hand. “What happened?” Her voice is laced with panic as well.

“I accidentally liked her picture!” Marianne’s voice is raising out of terror.

“Unlike it,” Megan reminds her, waving her hands to get Marianne’s attention, trying to calm her down.

Marianne nods and controls her shaking to accurately tap the red heart button. It disappears, back into an outline of a black heart. Her heart is still racing, looking at the static screen. She feels Megan’s hand on her shoulder, making her tense. She starts to calm after a few moments from Megan’s hand rubbing her.

Once Marianne looks like she has regained enough composure, Megan releases a small chuckle and makes fun of the younger brunette. Marianne feels her stomach churn in embarrassment. Megan finishes her cigarette and both of them say their goodbyes before entering the car.

* * *

Marianne twists the key and enters her warm apartment. She can smell delicious food lingering in the air. The sounds of food on a hot skillet is in unison with the fan above. After kicking off her feet-blistering heels and putting away her jacket, she steps further into the apartment to see Charline. She’s in the kitchen cooking away with her laptop on the countertop beside her listening to music. The music is barely heard over the loudness of the stove.

Marianne drops her keys into the glass plate that sits on the counter of an opening between the living room and kitchen. This startles Charline who turns around at lightning speed but relaxes when she sees the brunette. Marianne enters the kitchen as Charline turns back round, “What are you making?”

“Cordon Bleu with butter garlic pasta,” Charline answers as she stirs the pasta in the frying pan.

“Marry me?” Marianne jokes. Charline always makes dinner for Marianne on the days that she goes to the art gallery. She knows that Marianne wouldn’t eat otherwise due to exhaustion.

“Yes, dear. I accept,” Charline’s voice flutters and she sends a wink Marianne’s way.

Marianne sits at one of the bar stools they leave in the kitchen for Marianne to sit on while Charline cooks. Marianne’s feet ache from standing in heels for that long. She’s trying to work up the courage to tell Charline about her incident earlier.

“Guess what?” Marianne speaks up after a few encouraging words in her head.

Charline is swaying to the song playing out of her laptop speakers. She doesn’t turn her body towards Marianne when she answers, “What?”

“So, I looked at the profile you sent,” Marianne takes a pause. “That’s my partner for my music seminar and I may have accidentally liked her photo.”

Charline drops her wooden spoon when she hears this news. The music has stopped as well, switching songs, perfectly timed for dramatics. The apartment is uncomfortably still as Marianne waits anxiously for Charline to speak. All at once, the apartment fills with boisterous laughter once again. Marianne hangs her head as Charline turns, her eyes closed and hands on her knees.

Her breathing is ragged as barely coherent words escape her mouth, “You – accide- accidentally liked – her – photo?”

Marianne bows her head in the shame. She remains quiet. Charline is right, everything bad does happen to her. She’s a living tragedy. While Charline is attempting to catch her breath, Marianne feels her phone buzz. She fishes it out the front pocket of her slacks with some effort – these pants are really tight. She looks at her screen, in Instagram notification and her heart drops. She feels her entire body grow heavy, being weighed down by the everlasting humiliation.

_h.haenel has requested to follow you._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you guys enjoyed! let me know what you think so far


	3. Chapter 3

Marianne declined the follow request.

Something about Héloïse rubs Marianne the wrong way as if she’s sandpaper to her skin. Charline doesn’t say anything more when Marianne gives her a stern look after declining. They both eat the food that Charline has made while watching an episode of Grey’s Anatomy on Charline’s laptop, something they do most nights. There is barely any conversation during the dinner, only enjoying the food and the company that the other provides.

After dinner, Marianne does the dishes and the two escape to their rooms for the night. Usually, after dinner the two roommates would do homework together at the dinner table, but the first week leaves them relatively free of work. Marianne spends the final hours of the day going through her emails, listening to music and just destressing from the day. She looks for art that interests her that are available for purchase for the new cycle of artwork.

Her final activity of the day is always either sketching or painting. Any deviation from this always resulted in the next day being terrible. Marianne has always been one to follow tradition. She puts on soft music from her laptop for background noise. Today she decides to sketch, being too lazy to get paints out at this hour. She flips through her book, finding that she’s reaching the last few pages. She looks at the past few she has done.

There’s a very rough sketch of Charline cooking from a week ago, another one of an apple on their kitchen table. A few were of random things around Paris when she had free time to explore. One was of an expensive Lamborghini parked in parking lot at a park she was at. Another of the grand chateau on top of the hill many kilometres away. Then the most recent, the picture of Héloïse and Sophie in the lobby.

Marianne studies her work. She has always been her own greatest critique, that’s why her all artwork is never seen by anyone other than Charline and Megan. Despite their constant reassurance that her art is wonderful, she never believes them and continues to degrade her skills. Marianne finds the sketch utterly revolting, her worst work yet. The lines are poorly drawn, just scribbles placed on the paper without any thought. The shading is awful at showing where the light source is coming from and she’s convinced that Héloïse is bald in it.

Marianne flips the page out of frustration. She wishes she was better. She wishes she was as good as her dad was. Marianne searches some orchids up on google and decides to draw that before heading to sleep. This time, she doesn’t rush the process. Meticulously placing every line exactly where they should be. Paying extra attention to the light source.

She eventually finishes, somewhat satisfied with her work, but there’s always that constant voice in the back of her head that she’s not good enough. Sounds a lot like her father.

* * *

The Baader-Meinhof phenomenon is in full effect for Marianne the entire first week. Everywhere she goes, Héloïse somehow appears. Tuesday was relatively Héloïse-free, not seeing her once besides her Facebook profile popping up in the people you may know tab. Marianne pretty much confirmed that the FBI is tracking her from the amount Héloïse popped up since their first meeting.

Wednesday was the peak of it. Marianne saw Héloïse a total of three times – not like she was counting or anything. She first saw Héloïse when she took her first step onto campus. It was a sunny day, slightly cold, but the sun’s warmth made it bearable. Héloïse was in a long black winter jacket with a navy hoodie sticking out, black ripped jeans and some white converse. Marianne remembers the way Héloïse looked as she walked past Marianne. Hazel eyes tracked the blonde the entire way. Héloïse’s head was held high, full of confidence and seemingly invisible.

The second time was when Marianne was walking towards the science complex to meet Charline after her lab. Héloïse was sitting in the lobby, with a book in hand. She looked so relax, leaning back on the stiff backing. One leg was crossed over another and she looked like she owned the place. Marianne doesn’t question why she’s there.

The last time was when Marianne and Charline were in the library to do their homework before returning home. They were sitting on the group study floor during the hours of lunch. It was very loud and busy, with many students wandering the aisles between bookshelves hoping to find a vacant table. Marianne was working on a discussion post for one of her classes. She was going to say something to Charline when she looked up from her screen to lock eyes with blue ones.

Marianne couldn’t look away, as much as she wanted to. She was enchanted by the intensity; just raw emotion blankets them. She knows there’s a storm within Héloïse just from one gaze they held. It seemed like they were looking at each other for hours, but in reality, a mere few seconds. Charline’s voice breaks her out of her trance, asking her what was wrong. Marianne made up a lie that was convincing enough.

When she looked back, Héloïse was still staring at her. There was that same stupid smirk on her face as her Instagram post. Marianne feels disgusted that it is directed at her, sending a menacing glare back. Héloïse doesn’t look away. Marianne’s eyes travel to her lips.

Thursday was another day, relatively free of Héloïse. Thankfully, Marianne never saw the blonde that day, but the way her lips curled into that smirk was etched into her mind. Marianne hates the way the blonde smirks, a very narcissistic vibe radiates from her. The two roommates were sitting on the couch, watching a drama. The moon was out, shining brightly in the night sky, peeking through the windows. Marianne’s engrossed in the movie, intently watching the screen, absorbing all the movie has to offer.

Sometime during the movie, Charline was talking to Marianne about weekend plans. Marianne was barely paying attention to Charline’s words being too focused on the movie. She does freeze when she hears the blonde’s name escape from Charline’s lips. Something about being somewhere sometime. Marianne doesn’t care about the blonde enough to ask Charline to repeat it.

Finally, Friday rolls around. The week has passed by fairly quickly for Marianne since a lot of her time was filled with school and the gallery. Marianne has two classes on Friday, back to back which is nice, but the last one ends at 4:30, meaning she won’t have time to go the gallery.

Marianne’s currently sitting in a fair-sized lecture hall – fitting around 100 students, with two empty seats beside her. The walls are bleak white bricks, the chairs are hard grey plastic angled towards the front and the class is filled with fingers typing on keyboards. An old woman stands in the front of the class, delivering a lecture on gender in art. Fitting since the class is literally called Gender and Art.

Marianne’s not paying full attention. She only types her notes whenever she notices that the professor has repeated something. Otherwise, Marianne is busy texting Charline while looking at art on her browser. The words coming from the professors begin to fall to the background with the keyboard clicks.

**Charline:** party tn

Marianne is a relatively social person. She, like most university students, likes to go out on the weekend to get drunk and do irresponsible things. She’s young, so this is the time to do it. Though, since many envies the Merlant’s success, she’s barely ever invited to any social events. Charline always gets the invites, knowing that Marianne would attend if she did. Charline’s always the star of the show, everyone adores her so despite Marianne always tagging along, they would ignore her just for Charline to attend.

**Marianne:** anyone I know?

**Charline:** maybe

**Marianne:** are you going to tell me who?

**Charline:** no bc you might not come if you knew

**Marianne:** is it that guy you slept with last week?

**Charline:** not telling you anythinggggg

**Charline:** pay attention

Marianne shakes her head knowing that Charline wouldn’t tell her anything. Her choices are fairly limited. Either go out with Charline tonight or be alone in her apartment. She would ask to hang out with Megan, but unfortunately for her, Megan has a date tonight. So, she’ll definitely choose the first option.

Class concludes before Marianne realizes, only drawing her attention back to reality when she hears noisy footsteps beside her from her classmates. She exits out of the PowerPoint slides provided by the professor, barely having written anything. During the class, Marianne has managed to find a painting that caught her attention. It was a rendition of Orpheus and Eurydice’s myth, where the painter depicted the moment that Eurydice is wisped away from Orpheus’ reach. From the picture, it looked like it was still intact, but Marianne would have to further inspect it before buying.

Marianne doesn’t have to move for her next class as it is in the same boring lecture hall that she’s in now. She finds the class notes and leaves it in the back as she types an email to send the artwork to Megan. Megan is always the one that contacts the seller, just because Marianne can’t always return emails in a timely manner.

As she’s typing away her, she doesn’t pay attention to the influx of students taking the vacant seats of the lecture hall. Her brows are furrowed, the sound of her fingers connecting to the keyboard fills her ears. She’s stuck in a trance that she doesn’t notice the figure standing above her or the words that escape their mouth.

“Marianne?” The voice finally breaks her concentration. Marianne’s annoyed, knowing that it’s most likely going to be someone asking her for free tickets to her gallery or to say some snide comment. She doesn’t recognize the voice.

Marianne sighs, shoulders slump. Annoyance written all over her face when she looks up at the figure. Instantly, the annoyance grows, even slightly molding itself into anger. Her hazel eyes travel upwards to lock with blue ones. Marianne notices how tall she is, towering over her. Héloïse is wearing an oversized grey denim jacket, underneath a white shirt accompanied by some grey pants. She finding her slightly intimidating, but pushes the thought to the side. She can’t seem weak around the blonde – must establish dominance.

“What?” The words come out harsher than intended. Marianne is fully aware that she’s acting like an asshole. Something about Héloïse irritates Marianne’s soul and she can’t pinpoint what. A needle in the hay stack.

Héloïse doesn’t seem to flinch at the harshness. There’s that smirk again. Marianne wants to file a restraining order to never see that smirk again. Marianne can’t help but stare a little too long at those lips. They move to break Marianne from the curse casted upon her. “I asked if this seat was taken.”

Marianne can choose one of two options: lie or lie. Okay, maybe one. Anything to get rid of the blonde. Marianne chooses to lie, ignoring the bizarre feeling mustering up in the pit of her stomach. “Yes.”

There’s a light in Héloïse’s eyes, most would swoon over the way they twinkle, but Marianne just wants to get back to her email. The smirk only grows more charming. Héloïse sits anyway, taking off her backpack to put in front of her. Marianne tenses – trying not to be too obvious that she is. She watches Héloïse as the blonde unzips her bag to pull out a notebook and pen. Of course, she writes out her notes. Anything to be more pretentious, more interesting.

They sit in uncomfortable silence, watching the final students walk into the room. Each passing second is making her more uncomfortable. Marianne’s fingers hover over the keyboard, not actually typing anything. This has to be a nightmare, some kind of sick joke. Marianne looks for cameras around the room, but finds nothing except unfamiliar faces talking to one another.

“You know, it’s not nice to lie,” Héloïse’s voice breaks the barrier moments later. The feeling in her stomach grows.

“I wasn’t lying.”

“Well, if someone does come, then I’ll move,” The smirk grows into a slight smile, taking Marianne by surprise.

Marianne ignores the warm feeling within and doesn’t open her mouth. She has lost this battle, knowing no one will show up. 1-0. Though, Héloïse waits, expecting someone to come, but no one does. The professor is the last one in the room, apologizing for being late. Héloïse sinks into her seat, getting comfortable for this hour-long class.

The professor eventually starts their lecture about critical issues in art history. During this time, Marianne doesn’t type anything or even listens to the lecture. Her body is tense and her mind is racing. All her thoughts were about the blonde beside her, who is intently listening, writing notes as they leave their professor’s mouth.

Marianne studies her from the corner of her eyes. She memorizes the way Héloïse’s wavy blonde hair messily falls just past her shoulders. It looked so intentional, like a stylist walks fixed it into that position. Marianne watches the way Héloïse’s tongue sticks out when Héloïse goes to bite her bottom lip, as if it helps her hear the professor better. Marianne notices that Héloïse fiddles with her pen and her hands whenever she’s not writing.

Half way through the presentation, Marianne has yet to write down a single note or change from the title. As an artist, Marianne has always spent a little too long observing, barely aware that she is doing so. The professor is currently trying to work the system to switch screens to show a video. A low wave of students’ conversations fills the air, breaking the silence of the room.

“A picture lasts longer,” Marianne’s eyes dart away from the blonde when she hears those words. She feels a flush of embarrassment flow through her. She tries not to fiddle. She’s sure that her face is completely red. Marianne knows the smirk is back on Héloïse’s face. 2-0 Héloïse.

Marianne needs to find a way to gain back her dominance. She feigns a confident look when she fully turns to Héloïse. She tries her best not to cower at those fervent blue eyes. “I have good memory. I never quite caught your name.” The words leave her mouth effortlessly, professional-like.

This takes Héloïse by surprise, her blue eyes widen a little and her lips part. It takes all Marianne’s self-control to not look at those lips. 2-1. Héloïse extends her hand, holding it up lazily, “Héloïse, but you know that.” Scratch that. 3-0 Héloïse.

Marianne takes her hand to shake. It’s odd that they’re shaking hands but Marianne doesn’t care. The warmth of Héloïse’s hand burn into hers. “Marianne.” A proper introduction. They break their hands apart; Marianne’s hand feels as if it has gone cold and blue from frostbite. She’ll never admit she misses Héloïse’s touch.

The smirk is back on Héloïse’s face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope everyone is enjoying this story so far. it's definitely going to less angsty than the last and a lot different, more fun hopefully. thank you all for reading and commenting! i appreciate you all :)


	4. Chapter 4

Marianne’s is walking home after her class. It seems like everyone in Paris was just let out of their commitment as the sidewalks and roads are packed. The city is obnoxiously loud. Angry drivers honk at each other before the light turns green. Pedestrians chatting into their phones or to each other. If they weren’t talking to someone, they were walking very fast and noisily.

Leaving the classroom was utter hell for Marianne. Héloïse had to be intentionally packing up that slow, just to irritate Marianne some more. Marianne is standing over her, with her backpack already on, looking down at the blonde lethargically putting her notebook away, trapping Marianne in the row of seats. Once she does stand, she doesn’t immediately step out to let Marianne pass. Instead, she turns, prolonging the torture.

They stand there, looking at each other but it isn’t awkward. Surprisingly normal. They don’t speak as the students funnel through the only exit of the room. They just stare. Marianne starts to feel uncomfortable. Once most of them were out, the room falls silent. That’s when Héloïse turns her heels and exits the row, without muttering any words. Marianne hurries out too, trying to push past the blonde down the stairs, but Héloïse wouldn’t let her through.

Marianne’s convinced that Héloïse was placed in this world to torment her existence. Every interaction with the blonde has left Marianne flustered and annoyed. Héloïse even walks like a lesbian. Marianne follows behind her as the last few students leave the class. It’s technically only Marianne and Héloïse left in the lecture room. There’s a tension floating in the air between the two. It makes the air thick, making it hard to breathe. Marianne feels herself growing uneasy.

Once the pair made it out of class, Héloïse slows so that they would walk side by side. Marianne sees her doing this, but instead of keeping pace, Marianne slips past the blonde, muttering that she had to get to class. Marianne is extremely uncomfortable with the unknown feeling inside of her. She keeps the speed of an Olympic speed walker. She’s trying to make distance between them to thin out the thick air between them. Thankfully, Héloïse doesn’t try to catch up.

The cold air of January surrounds Marianne. She finds it refreshing, replacing the poisonous air in her lungs from earlier with fresh air. Many thoughts run through her head. One after another, every step she takes is another thought. One, Marianne hates Héloïse for all that she is. Pretentious, stuck-up, narcissistic. Two, Marianne relates to Héloïse in a way. She knows that she is viewed as pretentious herself, uncompromising and is overall disliked. Three, Héloïse is kind of hot. That smirk is charming and makes Marianne melt from within, but she refuses to acknowledge it. Four, the smirk is odious, as if Héloïse knew that she is extremely attractive and using it to her advantage.

The war inside of her head doesn’t stop, leaving her even more confused. The thoughts don’t stop their marathon until she walks into her apartment where she hears soft indie music coming from the back of the apartment. Marianne drags her feet on the orange laminate flooring, weary not to lift her heals. In hope of not producing another thought through her steps.

Marianne reaches the open door and sees Charline at her white desk in her large black office chair, hunched over staring closely at her laptop. Her walls are painting light grey covered with movie posters and school notes with fairy lights that hang at the top. Marianne leans against the door frame with her arms crossed.

“Guess what,” Marianne’s voice makes Charline tear her eyes away from her laptop.

“What?” Her brows are furrowed, Marianne suspects she must have been doing something stressful.

“I had my tragedy, technology and torture music lecture today. I was minding my own business, typing emails and whatnot. Héloïse comes and sits right beside me.” Marianne’s releases a chuckle at the memory while shaking her head. She’s purposefully withdrawing some details. Charline’s face is full of shock. Her mouth is agape, the perfect fly trap. Marianne chuckles again.

Charline doesn’t speak for a couple of seconds. Marianne stands there with a triumphant look on her face, as if she won a prize for day’s worst experience. “What did she say?”

“Not much. It was kind of weird,” Marianne responds while moving from the door to Charline’s bed. She sits on the edge.

Charline looks interested now. “Why?”

“She’s insufferable. Definitely too cocky for her own good,” Marianne’s voice trails off at the end.

Charline picks up on Marianne’s cue. “But?”

“She’s kind of hot.”

Charline sighs. Marianne knows this isn’t good. “Why do you always find girls that are assholes hot? Remember your last ex? Or the last girl you were talking to?” Charline scolds her.

Marianna has a track record of falling for attractive girls who always treat her poorly. Everyone that has shown interest in her ultimately was using her for her money and name. Her last ex, who she dated for a year, from first year to second year of university, ended up cheating on her. Saying the only reason, she was with Marianne was in hopes of getting her art displayed in the Merlant Gallery. After this, Marianne swore off girls after this.

That rule didn’t last long. The last girl she was talking to last summer was incredibly hot. Every ounce of Marianne was attracted to her. Charline had warned Marianne that she had bad feelings about this girl, but Marianne doubtfully ignored her. She ended up being clingy and manipulative, ultimately giving Marianne an ultimatum to choose her or Charline. Marianne walked out on her that moment and never spoke to her again. This time, she swore of girls and it has been working ever since.

Marianne slouches in defeat, knowing that Charline is right. Every emotion Marianne felt was purely physical towards Héloïse. Not once was Marianne ever satisfied from their conversations. Every action Héloïse displayed was self-conceited.

Their conversation ended promptly after that. Marianne feels a sea of sadness wash over her. She misses the feeling of being touched. She leaves Charline’s room after a quiet good bye and heads to her room. Marianne decides to take a nap before having to get ready for the party she’s being dragged to tonight.

* * *

Marianne can hear the music as she exits the uber. The moon is high in the sky, giving the world below a white glow. The light reflecting off the snow on the ground mimics the brightness of the sun. It’s cold out. Breaths can be seen in the air. Marianne stands on the grey masonry ground of the driveway, looking at the huge mansion in front of her. It is the one on the hill that she has seen so many times while at the park. She never thought she would be standing in front of it now.

It’s mesmerizing. Like those palaces you see in movies set in a different era, ones that Keira Knightley would star in. It is constructed intricately with white brick with many windows. It was definitely built years ago as it exterior has visible aging and large vines climb the front. The centre has a large wooden door. The place looks elegant – too fancy for some university party.

Marianne stands in awe, her lips slightly parted. Charline joins her side a second later. They both stand in silence admiring the mansion as the uber drives away. “Holy shit,” escapes Charline’s mouth. Marianne agrees.

They both walk towards the door. Charline’s heels click against the stone. The music gets louder and a mumbling crowd can be heard on the other side. They don’t know whether to knock or just go in, choosing the latter. A blanket of warmth and light escapes the door as Marianne pushes it open.

For such a large house, there aren’t that many people here. About 30 or so, quite intimate for a party. Usually there are over 50 at every party Marianne’s been. Marianne sheds her jacket in unison with kicking off her sneakers at the door. Charline follows suit as a person comes to greet them that Marianne recognizes but can’t pinpoint from where.

She’s shorter, with long brunette hair tied in a bun. Not one strand sticks out from it. She’s in a dress, a very tight red dress. Marianne wonders if she’s trying to impress someone as she sticks out like a sore thumb. She finds the girl attractive, especially when she receives a smile.

“Charline! You’re finally here.” The stranger hugs Charline. Marianne has never seen such genuinely smile before. “And you must be Marianne, it’s so nice to meet you. I’m Sophie,” She goes to hug Marianne next. Marianne accepts the hug, the warmth from the stranger is nice after being outside. Marianne doesn’t recognize who it is.

Once Sophie pulls away, she gestures for their coats and walks away, telling them to go grab a drink from the kitchen. Marianne follows Charline through the crowd, trying to navigate where the kitchen is. They took the long way there, passing through the very large living room with a theatre sized TV, expensive sound system and massive couches. All the walls are wood panels, very rustic and chandeliers hang from every ceiling. The music is pounding in Marianne’s ears as they pass in front of them to enter the kitchen.

The kitchen is more deserted, only a few people scattered around talking to each other. The kitchen is different from the entire house. The walls are painted white, with white cupboards and cabinets and grey marbled countertops. Every appliance is polished stainless-steel silver, the refrigerator was the biggest one Marianne has seen yet.

Charline leans in Marianne, “What the fuck is this place?”

Marianne shrugs. Marianne’s rich, but not this rich. As their eyes scan the surrounds, they fail to notice someone approach them from at their side. It wasn’t until they spoke that the roommates noticed them there.

“Nice to see you two here.” Marianne doesn’t need to look to know who it is. The voice makes her head hurt and knees week.

Charline turns and gives Héloïse a hug, as she does with everyone. Marianne can see Héloïse visibly tense. She hugs Charline back regardless. Marianne observes Héloïse, while she is preoccupied. She notices that they’re both basically wearing the same outfit. T-shirt and jeans, except Marianne is wearing a white t-shirt tucked into blue jeans while Héloïse is wearing all black and her hair is down. Marianne can’t help but notice the way Héloïse’s biceps look so toned under the short sleeves that hug them tightly. The tattooed right arm sticks out and is very attractive.

When the hug breaks apart, Héloïse’s eyes travel towards Marianne’s hazel. She’s under a spell again. Forever enchanted by her deep blue eyes. Marianne feels vulnerable under Héloïse’s gaze. Marianne somehow offers her a tight smile. She knows she looks like an ass, but she can’t help it. She receives a smirk back and Marianne dislikes her again.

“There are drinks in the fridge. Help yourself.” Héloïse gestures towards it, not tearing her eyes from Marianne.

Without a missing a beat, Marianne breaks Héloïse’s spell. She walks towards the refrigerator. Charline doesn’t follow as she’s making conversation with Héloïse. Marianne pulls out a beer for herself and a cooler for Charline. Charline always makes fun of Marianne for enjoying beer, saying it’s so lesbian of her. Marianne returns and hands Charline her cooler.

This time, Marianne initiates the gaze. “Do you have a beer opener?”

Héloïse extends her hand out for the beer. Marianne releases the cold bottle. Their fingers graze. Marianne feels her fingers burn. Eyes still on each other. The music in the other room disappears. Everything around Marianne and Héloïse vanishes into particles.

It’s only them.

Héloïse brings the metal cap to her mouth. She opens it slightly and traps the metal between her back teeth. A pull downwards and the cap is off, clasped between her teeth. Marianne hopes her pupils aren’t visibly dilating from how weirdly attractive that was. Héloïse hands it back, their fingers graze again.

The party continues. Héloïse leaves Marianne alone after giving her back her beer. Marianne heard some girls yelling her name before the blonde disappears before her. Charline and Marianne are currently in another room. Another living room? Marianne doesn’t know, the house has too many rooms and she’s also pretty tipsy.

The two are playing beer pong against Sophie and some boy in Sophie’s program. Marianne doesn’t remember his name, but his smile is captivating and he’s fun. She also doesn’t question how Charline knows of Sophie if they are in different programs. The roommates are losing terribly to the other two, them having four cups to their one. It’s Marianne and Charline’s turn to shoot. Marianne shoots first and misses by a mile. Charline shoots and hits the rim of a cup. The next shot, both their rival sinks their shot and of course the pair are unable to sink two redemption shots.

They are forced to take a shot as punishment.

Now it is past one in the morning and the party is starting to die down. Marianne’s wandering upstairs looking for a bathroom upstairs. There’s a line up downstairs and she’s convinced that her bladder will explode. Marianne’s half holding the wall in order to walk as she goes down a dark hallway. Her head is making the hallway rotate. She notices a yellow light shining through the gap of a dark wooden door that is slightly open.

With her head clouded from the alcohol, she pushes the door open, expecting to see a bathroom. Instead, it’s a massive room, painted a dark grey. The walls are bare and minimal furniture in the room. Only a king bed in the middle with a large mirror dresser against the wall. Beside the bed is one wood night stand with a yellow light lamp Marianne wonders how someone falls asleep looking at themselves.

Marianne steps in, curious to see if there was more, slightly judging who sleeps there. It seems so lifeless. She looks around and is unaware of the person who stands at the door. “What are you doing in my room?” Héloïse’s voice breaks the silence.

Marianne freezes. Of course, Héloïse lives here. That’s why Charline refuses to tell her where they were going. If she doesn’t move then Héloïse can’t see her.

“Hello?” Héloïse repeats when Marianne doesn’t move.

Marianne sheepishly turns to see the blonde with a smile on her face, taking her by surprise. Marianne feels a desire build within her. She tries to suppress it but being drunk makes it difficult. Héloïse takes a few steps into the room then closes the door behind her. Marianne’s mind becomes more sober with every second. They stand a metre apart, but Marianne can feel Héloïse’s energy between the gap. It feels magnetic. The light from the lamp seems to intensify, the room is getting brighter. The world around them has gone quiet, no more music or people talking can be heard.

“I was just looking for the washroom,” Marianne slurs her words as Héloïse slowly inches towards her. Marianne’s eyes are glued to the blonde’s lips.

Héloïse is standing so close to Marianne that she can feel her breath on her lips. Marianne subconsciously bites her lip with Héloïse’s eyes on them. She wants to kiss her. All the negative thoughts and emotions are gone, floating off into thin air. Héloïse smirks. Marianne doesn’t hate it.

“It’s down the hall. I can show you.” Héloïse whispers, her eyes are still on Marianne’s lips.

Marianne’s heart is racing. She prays that Héloïse can’t hear it. Marianne knows she should back up, breaking the attraction between them, but she can’t. The desire to kiss Héloïse is too strong. Desire, such an enigmatic feeling. Marianne reminds silent, staring at Héloïse’s blue eyes that are on her lips.

Héloïse’s eyes look back to hazel. Marianne swears her eyes have gone completely black from dilated pupils, but there’s a fire in them. Héloïse goes to open her mouth, but is cut off. Marianne’s lips are on Héloïse’s. They are hot, she feels as if her lips are on fire. Héloïse brings her hands up to cup Marianne’s face and she feels Héloïse’s roots dig their way into her skin. Marianne’s own hands lace through the messy blonde hair.

Their kiss is fast, rough and full of want. Marianne kisses her harder with every passing second. Fireworks shoot into the night sky, butterflies fly through a field, Marianne’s sitting on a cloud. All the clichés don’t come close to explaining the feeling in Marianne’s chest. Eventually, Héloïse’s back hits the door.

The kiss doesn’t break. Their lips mold into one another like atoms in liquid, close together with no arrangement. Marianne feels Héloïse’s right hand slip from her face, leaving a trail of flames as it does. It traces down Marianne’s body, down her neck, past her breasts and stop at the top of jeans. Marianne knows this should stop. She knows that Héloïse is an asshole that will probably hurt her.

But she can’t stop Héloïse. She doesn’t want to. The warmth from the flames feel too comfortable against her skin.

Moans escape Marianne’s lips and they are captured by Héloïse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope you guys enjoyed this chapter and i'm not disappointing you with this fic. it is fun for me to write. thank you for reading and commenting, it means a lot :)


	5. Chapter 5

The next morning, Marianne wakes to the sound of people arguing somewhere. Her eyes are heavy, her head slow and her body sore. When her hazel eyes adjust to the birght light of the sun peering into the room, she notices that she isn’t in a familiar setting. She feels a sense of panic arise in her. She feels someone stir being her. She’s too frightened to move.

Everything is hypersensitive to Marianne. Her hearing has enhanced, her vision has gone past perfect and her sense of movement is stronger. She feels each movement the body beside her makes. She hears the arguing approaching the closed door. She sees the particles in the air as they float through the air where the light hits. She’s convinced that she’s still drunk.

Marianne tries to recall the events of yesterday night with her foggy mind. A slideshow of bits and pieces form in her head, but nothing coherent. Marianne has no recollection of the events leading up to being alone with Héloïse, but her she remembers the moment she locked eyes on Héloïse. Those blue eyes seemingly sobered her up, excitement raced through her.

She remembers the hot sensation of Héloïse’s lips on hers. She remembers the feeling of Héloïse’s hands on her face. Or when Héloïse’s hand trailed down her body, stopping and waiting for permission. Marianne recalls the exact moment she said yes by moaning into the blonde’s mouth. She can still feel the places where Héloïse touched, where she kissed, where she dragged her tongue on Marianne’s skin. The passion, want, euphoria.

The memory makes Marianne blush, grow nervous and wet simultaneously. It confuses her and excites her all at once. It courses through her body giving her enough confidence to turn to face Héloïse. She doesn’t regret when she does. Soft blue eyes lock onto her, even with the blanket of anger always present, there’s a calmness in them. Marianne relax under Héloïse’s strong gaze. The burning doesn’t feel as bad as people make it out to be.

“Bonjour,” Héloïse’s morning voice echoes through the empty room.

The arguing, the footsteps, everything disappears. This is the most at peace Marianne has felt in while. Maybe she judged Héloïse too quickly at the beginning. Maybe Héloïse won’t hurt her. Maybe Héloïse will be the one to heal her.

“Bonjour,” Marianne responds with a small smile that matches Héloïse’s.

Marianne is brought back to reality. The voices from outside the door is getting closer. Marianne prays that they won’t interrupt this moment. Her eyes probably display panic because Héloïse reaches out with a soft hand and places it on Marianne’s cheek. She visibly relaxes, closing her eyes at the contact.

All of a sudden, the wooden door swings open furiously. The two panic at the abrupt clash of the door against the wall, sitting up and naked bodies only covered by a duvet. Héloïse flinches at the definite damage inflicted on the wall. At the door stands three people. Charline, Sophie and a girl that Marianne has never seen before. She’s taller than Sophie and Charline.

The stranger has visible steam coming from her head and her eyes are red from anger. Marianne looks at Charline who has a bewildered expression on her face. Probably both from the stranger and Marianne being in bed with Héloïse even after a constant week of her complaining. The stranger stomps into the room, her footsteps shake the entire mansion, almost breaking the hardwood flooring. Marianne is becoming frightened.

“What the fuck is this Héloïse?” The voice is loud and full of rage. It echoes through the empty room There’s a hint of hurt in her voice. Marianne hasn’t seen someone this enraged before.

Marianne sees confused looks on Sophie and Charline’s faces. There’s a lack of answers from those two. She turns to Héloïse with perplexed eyes, hoping from some type of explanation. The soft blue eyes are no longer present. Instead, replaced by blankness. They remind Marianne of the vast ocean, as if she’s standing in the middle of a calm sea.

She watches Héloïse’s lips open, “Désolée Marianne.” The voice is full of sorrow.

The rest was a blur. Her consciousness supresses clear memory. She faintly recalls Héloïse asking Sophie to take Juliette out of the room, which she does. Charline enters the room and explains everything to Marianne as she helps her get ready by gathering scattered clothes around the room. Marianne doesn’t remember the exact words, but she remembers her saying Héloïse, girlfriend and we need to get out of here.

Marianne gets dressed in record time, ignoring the blonde the entire process. She feels nauseous and not from the hangover she has. She was a fool to believe that it would be different this time. That Héloïse would actually not disappoint her, but that was naïve of her. Another person on the never-ending list of people who let her down.

Marianne and Charline escape through the front. They could hear Juliette and Héloïse’s voices ring throughout the house. Marianne has never witnessed two individuals argue with each other like this. The yelling is blistering to Marianne’s ears, making her head hurt more than it already does. She can’t quite make out what they’re saying and Sophie is nowhere to be found. This has to be top 5 of the worst mornings she has ever experienced.

Thankfully, the uber was already at the door when the two exited the dark house into the world. The sun is high in the air, blinding Marianne, torturing her further. The frigid air around her is cold, making her body even more sore. They enter the uber and the driver scrunches his face. Marianne wouldn’t be surprised if it was due to the smell of alcohol, weed and cigarettes lingering from them. They both offer him an apologetic smile before he leaves the horseshoe- shaped driveway.

The drive home was silent. Marianne sat frozen for the entire 20 minutes, praying that Charline wouldn’t interrogate her in front of the driver. Charline knows Marianne too well to do that to her, so she keeps her questions to herself.

Once outside their apartment, the two exit the uber with mumbled thanks. Marianne fishes for her keys out of her winter jacket and opens the door for them both. They enter the apartment silently. As soon as the door closes, Charline starts her interrogation.

“You could’ve told me where you were! I spent like an hour looking for you and I had to find out that you were in bed with Héloïse from Sophie,” Charline scolds. Marianne cowers from her outburst. Mainly because she rarely ever sees Charline this angry. If she was in this position she’d be just as fuming.

“I was pretty drunk and probably fell asleep before I thought to tell you. Je suis désolée,” Her voice is quiet. She’s quietly scolding herself too. She sluggishly takes off her jacket and shoes. “Who was that girl anyway?

Charline notices the sadness in Marianne’s voice and softens. She knows that telling Marianne would hurt her based off her miserable reaction to this morning’s events. “Sophie said that she’s Héloïse’s girlfriend,” She hesitantly tells Marianne.

Marianne stopped putting away her jacket. Her eyes widen. Her lungs stop accepting oxygen. She had no idea that Héloïse was in a relationship. Marianne tries to replay the night, wondering if at any moment, Héloïse mentioned anything about a girlfriend, but nothing appears. She has been cheated on; she knows what it feels like. It’s her fault that the other girl is hurt. Héloïse hurt her and she hurt someone else. All for what?

Marianne doesn’t say anything word as she puts away her jacket and drags her feet to the shower. It’s sunny outside, full of light, but Marianne feels dark and gloomy. She strips out of her dirty clothes from last night while the water turns hot. The water reminds her body of Héloïse, but Marianne ignores that feeling. She scrubs her skin, trying to clean herself of Héloïse as best she can. She’s angry that Héloïse left a hickey on her chest. It’ll serve as reminder for too many days.

Once her skin starts to feel raw and all the sadness has been mostly washed off. Marianne starts to feels better, the grief dissipating but anger settling in. She submerges from the foggy washroom naked, like she always does and enters her room. She sits in her bed, still naked and checks her phone to see a message from Megan from this morning. The text message is asking for Marianne to call her, so she does.

Megan picks up after the second ring. “Hello?” Her voice is quiet, most likely due to the intimate nature of the gallery.

“Hey Megan, what’s up?”

“Want to come over tonight? I’ll order us food and we can watch a movie. Bring Charline.” Marianne can hear her fingers clicking against the keyboard.

“Hold on, let me ask.” This occurs every weekend, and every weekend the two roommates always say yes, but Marianne asks anyway. Marianne sends her a text and not a second later the answer is yes. “Yeah we’ll head over at 6pm.”

* * *

6pm rolls around faster than Marianne expected. She preoccupied her time with distractions, such as homework, food and more art deals. Megan has managed to successfully contact the seller of the Orpheus and Eurydice painting and they have agreed on a deal. Marianne spent most of the making the final preparations to go view the painting over in Milan. Since Megan was busy with the gallery, Marianne is forced to travel. Although, art deals are always stressful, it’s nice to travel and get out of Paris every so often.

During the time Marianne was finding the time to go to Milan then preparing the tickets and everything, Charline brought in a sandwich for her to eat. Marianne is grateful and says if Charline wasn’t straight, they’d be married, which Charline agreed. Marianne works at her desk, her eyes glued to a computer screen for many hours. She manages to fit in doing some homework before it was time to go.

Every now and then, her mind would drift to Héloïse. Her mind would engulf in flames and animosity would course through her. Héloïse must have only slept with her because of what she has, right? Héloïse wanted something from her. Maybe free entry to the gallery to bring her girlfriend? Or maybe her girlfriend refused to have sex. Marianne comes up with scenarios till they hurt her brain. It would further frustrate her, making her hatred for Héloïse grow more every second.

They are currently driving towards Megan’s house, which is a 15-minute drive across Paris. Marianne can feel her tires crunch against the snow. The sun has gone to sleep early during the cold winter evenings. The street and city lights provide poor lighting. The streets are still busy being a Saturday evening, many couples going on dates or people going out to destress.

The car is filled with soft music chosen by Charline, who is always in charge of the music. It’s always a comfortable silence between them, even though Marianne knows Charline is itching to ask more questions. They’re stopped at a red light. The light shines into Marianne’s eyes, adding fuel to her anger. Red. It’s a colour that Marianne knows all too well.

“Just ask,” Marianne breaks the silence. She can see Charline shift in the leather seat out of her peripheral.

“Was it good?” The light turns green. The car starts moving.

“Yes.” Marianne answers without hesitation.

“How many times did you cum?”

Marianne takes a second to remember. “I don’t know, maybe like 8?”

Charline snaps her head to Marianne, she’s surprised her neck is not broken from the speed. Her brown eyes are wide and mouth is open. “8?” Her voice full of surprise.

Marianne smiles slightly. She’s still angry, but she has to admit that it was a very pleasurable night. They arrive at Megan’s house after a few more minutes. Conversation was mostly on the topic of Héloïse. They talk all the way until the enter Megan’s one-bedroom apartment. It’s very small, having a small kitchen, living room, but spacious bedroom. The walls are all white, with fairly expensive paintings that Marianne’s father gave Megan as gifts throughout the years.

There’s already Chinese food laid out on plates when the girls enter. Two glasses of wine are poured and an open beer. They all grab their food and drinks and plant themselves onto the couches. There’s one big three-person couch and small one-person recliner. Marianne has claimed the chair and no one dares to take it.

They put a bad romantic comedy at the request of Charline and the three start to eat. For the first while, there were no conversations. Eyes are glued to the TV in front, the room only lit by the light coming from the kitchen. Slowly they all finish their food, placing it onto the glass coffee table in front. Marianne leans back into the recliner with her beer in hand.

“Are you going to tell Megan about Héloïse?” Charline decides to speak up. Megan looks at Charline then Marianne. Marianne has her eyes closed, sighing. She’s going to get scolded by Megan too.

“What happened?” Megan asks.

Marianne decides to stay quiet, hoping that they would drop the conversation. Charline doesn’t give Marianne the benefit of the doubt. “We went to a party at her house yesterday and she had sex with her.”

Marianne glares at Charline who gives her a cheeky smile. Megan looks at Marianne with wide eyes. A few days ago, Marianne was complaining about how much she disliked Héloïse. “I thought we didn’t like her?”

“We don’t,” Charline adds. Megan looks over at her. Marianne feels herself growing uneasy. “I mean, she’s fine, but not someone Marianne should be interested in.”

Megan sees Marianne sink into the black leather. Marianne wishes it was the void. “From what I’ve heard, I agree with Charline.”

Marianne puts her hands up in defeat. “It was a moment of weakness. I was horny and drunk. It didn’t mean anything anyway.” Charline nods in an unconvincing way, but Megan believes her. Charline always said that Marianne’s heart lies in her vagina.

“Her girlfriend walked in on them naked in bed together,” Charline interjects. Marianne shoots daggers at Charline now.

“What?” Megan exclaims. Her head snaps back and forth between the two, asking for an explanation.

Charline continues, despite Marianne’s eyes telling her to shut up. “Yup, they were in a yelling fit when we left. Quite the morning for Marianne.”

Marianne hides her face in the sweater she’s wearing. She wants this torture to stop, but she knows it won’t end. The teasing and questions continue. The movie is completely ignored at this point. The conversation slowly shifts away from Marianne and onto Megan. Megan explained that her date went well and they’re going to see each other this upcoming week.

While Megan was explaining her night to the girls, Marianne felt her phone vibrate. She pulls it from underneath her and checks the lit-up screen. It’s a message. From an unsaved number.

It reads: _Hey, It’s Héloïse. Can we talk?_


	6. Chapter 6

Saturday night at Megan’s ended late at night. Marianne hesitantly told Charline and Megan about the text she got. Charline called Héloïse brave for texting her after the morning they just had and they both agreed that Marianne should not respond. Marianne listens to them, but in the back of her mind is a curiosity. How did Héloïse even get her number? She wanted answers, but in her best interest, she deletes the conversation. The seminar on Monday will definitely be awkward.

Sunday passes by quickly. Marianne spent the entire day with Megan at the gallery. She mainly spent it in the studio in the back where they enter from. It’s quite small, but surprisingly the space is used well. There’s an easel in the middle, surrounded by art supplies in the cabinets on one side and the other side has purchased artwork hanging to display or sell. She painted all of Sunday while the gallery was open and when she got home that night, she passed out from exhaustion.

A whole week passes quickly. Nothing happens. No Héloïse at all. Héloïse doesn’t show to seminar nor their lecture on Friday. She didn’t even do her part for the assignment, so Marianne was stuck doing both, extending the duration of torture. The lack of Héloïse was concerning to Marianne. She even went as far as asking Charline if she has heard anything, but she said that Sophie hasn’t mentioned anything. Many times, Marianne would sit with her phone in her hands and contemplate messaging her directly, but always chose against it.

She constantly fought her inner emotions. Héloïse missing the seminar without notice was irritating. Even more so since Marianne had to do extra work. More negative emotions fester up in Marianne. She can’t forget about that night she spent with Héloïse. It was serene. But she also can’t forget the influx of anger and negative emotions from the morning after. An internal battle of emotions. 

The next Monday approaches sooner than Marianne would’ve liked. The weather has been very nice the past few days. There has not been a snowfall since, but the chill air keeps the snow on the ground from melting, even with the sun shining bright. She’s now in the same building lobby as she was a week ago, waiting for her seminar to begin.

She’s on her laptop with notes from her earlier lecture pulled up. Her eyes scan the words and the pictures of each slide, trying to understand the lecture material. Her brows are furrowed, her hand is keeping her head up, elbow against the table. She’s mere centimetres from the pixels. Maybe all the data will transfer into her brain with closer proximity. Ultimately, without surprise it fails and Marianne sighs.

Her attention is brought back to reality. Where in a few minutes, Marianne would have to see Héloïse and speak to her for the first time since Saturday morning. Her nerves are exposed. The anger inside of her is bubbling. She lazily packs up her stuff, praying that something will happen during this time that would prevent her from going to the seminar.

But nothing does.

And now she’s sitting beside Héloïse.

They don’t exchange any words, no glances, nothing. Marianne does observe her as she was going to her seat. The blonde had her back turned to her. Blonde hair tied up in that messy bun again. A white tour t-shirt that wraps around her arms so well again. That tattooed full-sleeve that Marianne has yet to inspect closely. The admiration immediately vanishes when Marianne sits down.

She sees Héloïse tense. She does too. Now, both their laptops are beside each other, their bodies only inches apart and the TA in the front giving instructions on today’s assignment. It’s to research with your partner a biography of the chosen composer. Good thing education is free, or Marianne would be furious that her money is going to this.

The TA dismisses the class after a short PowerPoint and their classmates around them start discussing with their partners. The pair stay static. None of them know what to do. Héloïse musters the confidence first, “I texted you.”

“Yes, I ignored it. Do you want to do part A or part B?” It came out harshly. Marianne sees Héloïse flinch at it.

“I can do part A,” her voice is quiet. Marianne feels her chest hurt a little, but ignores it. The bubbling has subsided. Héloïse’s confidence has seemingly vanished.

They work in silence for 5 minutes. Marianne was counting. She could barely focus, so many questions roam her head. She wants answers. “Where were you last week?” Marianne turns towards Héloïse, the first time today. She studies the way Héloïse’s noise curves.

Héloïse looks back. Their first glance and it knocks the wind out Marianne. Héloïse’s blue eyes read an expression that Marianne hasn’t seen before. A mixture between passion and uncertainty.

“I had a family issue.”

An issue that lasted an entire week? Seems unlikely, but Marianne doesn’t press. “How did you get my number?”

“You gave me it that night. You don’t remember?” Marianne wants to beg Héloïse to stop looking at her lips.

Marianne blushes. She doesn’t remember. She only remembers bits and pieces of that night. She does remember falling asleep to Héloïse’s fingers brushing her hair. “No, I don’t.”

“Why didn’t you answer my text?”

“Why didn’t you tell me you had a girlfriend?” It was intentionally malicious. She can’t help that she’s hurt.

This makes Héloïse grow silent. Her mouth opens, then closes, not knowing what to say. Her eyes scan Marianne, looking for something. Sadness. Those blue eyes are the void and Marianne floats willingly in them.

Héloïse breaks eye contact and looks back at her laptop. She hangs her head. Her hands move from the keyboard and fiddle with one another. She’s nervous to answer. “It’s not like that.”

“I was cheated on Héloïse,” Her voice is broken. The memory and pain are still on the surface. “I know how much it hurts and what you did sucked. I wouldn’t have done anything if I knew.”

Héloïse doesn’t say anything for the rest of the seminar. They work in silence, putting their individual work into a shared document. Once Héloïse finished, she stood abruptly. The chair scrapes against the floor, the screeching sends shivers down Marianne’s back.

“You don’t know what I’m going through, so please stop acting as if you do,” Her voice harsh, broken. Marianne starts to feel remorse. Héloïse did ask her to talk, which she declined so Marianne's anger may be unjustified.

Héloïse then leaves the classroom without another word, or look or anything.

As if Marianne isn’t even there.

* * *

The rest of the week passes slowly, snowing the entire time. Nothing exciting happened this week. Marianne spent all of her time either in class, at the gallery or doing homework. Anything to keep her busy. Her mind would unwillingly wander to Héloïse some time to time, but the distractions keep them limited.

Seeing sadness in Héloïse’s eyes awoken something in Marianne and she doesn’t understand why. The harshness wasn’t what bothered Marianne. She wonders why Héloïse is sad. Did they break up? Most likely, Juliette found them naked in bed together. Was Héloïse sad about losing a girlfriend? Or was she said about something else? Still so many unanswered questions, but Marianne refuses to be the one that asks first.

Marianne still slightly resents Héloïse. Her actions are unjust and every time Marianne thinks of her, she gets a little bit angry. There’s never any reason to cheat on anyone and Héloïse put Marianne in a very uncomfortable position. But she promised herself and Charline that she would try to be friends with Héloïse. Give her the benefit of the doubt.

It’s Friday now and Marianne is sitting anxiously in her seat waiting to see Héloïse. She’s trying her best to keep focus on her laptop, typing an email to a potential art buyer, trying to negotiate pricing. But she’s unable to. Her eyes keep darting to the door every single time a new student walks in. Despite everything, Marianne feels drawn to Héloïse. Marianne knows there’s more to Héloïse’s rugged exterior and she wants to uncover it. As a friend, of course.

When Héloïse walks in, the surroundings felt different. Héloïse seems different today. Angrier. Marianne can see flames coming from her. Her phone is in her hand. Her footsteps are more like stomps, her eyes are stern and her lips are tight. Her blue eyes scan the row of seats until the lock onto hazel. Marianne feels uncomfortable under her gaze. She wants to believe she saw the blue eyes go soft, even for a second. Marianne offers a small smile, but she’s unsure if Héloïse can even see it. Marianne hopes she would sit beside her.

Surprisingly, she does.

She slumps angrily into the seat beside Marianne, the same seat as last week. She sighs deeply. She doesn’t look at Marianne while she pulls out her notebook or when she mumbles bonjour.

“Bonjour,” Marianne says more excitedly than Héloïse. Marianne notices that she looks tired. “Comment allez-vous?” Marianne watches the blonde gets situated.

“I’ve been better,” The words barely escape through gritted teeth. “You?”

“Bien.”

They don’t exchange anymore words before class starts. Class is once again mundane. Nothing exciting occurs in this class, mainly it’s to help them with their assignment. All of it is on google anyway, so Marianne doesn’t listen. She’s still trying to deal with this art dealer who is being quite difficult, trying to pay less than what the painting is worth. Her fingers are furiously tapping the keys, her eyes are focused on the screen. 

**Maybe: Héloïse Haenel:** Can you type a little quieter? Trying to hear the prof.

Marianne’s eyes dart to Héloïse who isn’t looking at her. She’s slouched in the chair, her fingers playing with her lips. Another hand holds her phone up to her face. Marianne can see a name on Héloïse’s tattooed wrist. There’s a smirk on her face. Marianne’s fingers type harder.

 **Marianne:** Like this?

 **Maybe: Héloïse Haenel:** no, that’s worse.

 **Marianne:** deal with it

Marianne smiles at herself.

 **Maybe: Héloïse Haenel:** what are you even doing?

 **Marianne:** trying to sell this painting.

 **Marianne:** Attachment: JPEG_491029491

 **Maybe: Héloïse Haenel:** looks cool, is that what you do?

 **Marianne:** yeah, don’t you know who I am?

Marianne cringes at herself. She’s now the pretentious one.

 **Marianne:** sorry that sounded weird. I’m just saying that like a lot of people know of me… I don’t know I’m sorry.

Marianne hears Héloïse chuckle slightly. It sounds like music.

 **Maybe: Héloïse Haenel:** it’s ok don’t apologize, I know who you are. I just was wondering what you did there. It’s interesting.

 **Maybe: Héloïse Haenel:** I also want to explain everything that happened.

They text for the remainder of the lecture, Marianne doesn’t answer Héloïse’s text about talking. Marianne completely forgets to email the buyer back. Their conversation picks up as Marianne shuts her laptop. It’s quite easy to talk to Héloïse to her surprise. She expected the English major to be more pretentious than she is. Her actions may have displayed it at first, but this is a completely different person than she was weeks ago.

Marianne doesn’t know what to feel anymore. A part of her knows that she should dislike – or even hate Héloïse, but she can’t find it in her to. There’s something in Héloïse that Marianne yearns. Maybe it’s because the blonde is capable of making her feel emotions she isn’t used to. Héloïse does certainly bring excitement into her life. There’s no doubt about that.

Marianne’s waiting for Héloïse to pack up. She’s already standing with her backpack on, looking down at the blonde who seems to be a sloth. Marianne doesn’t feel the same as last time. She doesn’t feel like she’s trapped. There’s no hurry to get away from her anymore. Irritating? yes. Bitterness? no. No longer does she feel like Héloïse is here to torture her.

They walk side by side out of the class and into the frigid air. It’s windy today. Marianne forgot to bring a scarf, and her jacket doesn’t zip up all the way to protect her neck. Her hands are in her pocket and only a hat keeps her head warm. Héloïse is beside her with an expensive jacket and all the necessities to keep warm. Marianne’s jealous, having to duck her head into her neck to keep from freezing.

Their steps are in unison. They are also very slow. Feet imprinting onto the light layer of snow on the ground as they walk through campus together. “You don’t seem to be in a hurry,” Héloïse’s breath fogs up the air.

Marianne moves her head to give Héloïse and confused look. This was a mistake because a gust of wind decides to blow at the exact moment. Marianne feels her insides tense at the cold on her neck. She puts her head right back into the ducking position. “Why would I be in a hurry?”

“You left pretty fast the first week, something about having class?” Her voice is light, playful. Héloïse’s scarf is covering some of her face, but Marianne knows she’s smirking from the light in her eyes.

Why does she always get herself in this position? Always looking like a fool in front of Héloïse.

Marianne looks away, luckily her cheeks already pink from the cold. “I don’t,” She whispers in defeat.

The conversation ends and the two continue to walk across campus towards Marianne’s house. They stop at an intersection.

“Where are you going now?” Héloïse asks as they approach a green light. Her eyes are so blue.

“Home,” Marianne responds.

“You walk?”

Marianne nods.

“I’ll give you a ride home,” Héloïse says and starts to walk away. She doesn’t even give Marianne a chance to answer, already assuming she’d say yes. Marianne would usually find this act very infuriating, but it’s too cold to argue.

Marianne catches up the blonde as she walks towards the parking lot. Marianne follows beside her in silence, trying her best to keep warm. The wind is picking up, blowing settled snow from roof tops down. Marianne would be in awe, if she weren’t so cold. Héloïse sees the brunette shiver beside her, trying her best to keep warm.

Héloïse does something that Marianne would’ve never expected. She stops to remove her gloved hands from her pockets. Marianne stops, looking at Héloïse with confusion, bouncing on her toes to keep warm. Héloïse unravels the tucked scarf from her neck. She doesn’t flinch at the loss of warmth.

Héloïse steps closer. So close that Marianne could smell her sweet perfume. She’s looking at Héloïse’s eyes, which are focused on wrapping the scarf around Marianne’s neck. Héloïse’s gloved finger brushes her neck, sending a shiver down her spine. The scarf smells like Héloïse and is very soft. It warms Marianne instantly.

They don’t say anything the rest of the way to the car. Both are aware of the tension in the air.

It’s hot.

The snow melts before it can touch them.


	7. Chapter 7

Héloïse floods all of Marianne’s thoughts. They didn’t say much in the car as Héloïse drives Marianne home, in her black Lamborghini Urus. Marianne was still in shock from Héloïse’s spontaneous actions. It was very intimate. Caring almost. Something that Marianne knows too little about.

“I’m telling you guys, it was weird. Like the Héloïse from 2 weeks ago is gone,” Marianne says to Charline, who sits in front of her and Megan, over the phone.

Charline taps her fingers on their dinner table. Her eyes scan Marianne’s face, making Marianne quite nervous. It’s silent in their house, only noise is from Megan’s cooking. All of them stay silent. Marianne doesn’t know what else to say. Megan and Charline are thinking of what to say.

“Sophie did tell me that Héloïse broke up with her girlfriend that morning,” Charline voices after a few moments. Her hand stops tapping the table.

“Héloïse did cheat on her,” Megan reasons from the other side. Charline nods at this. Marianne’s features drop. She had nearly forgotten about that. All the negative emotions are back. The intimacy means nothing.

_You don’t know what I’m going through._ Héloïse’s voice floats through Marianne’s ears, as if she was back in the seminar room on Monday. Marianne didn’t forget the harshness laced in the broken voice. Maybe there’s more to Héloïse’s side? It’s not like Marianne knows much to begin with. She has only known Héloïse for a total of three weeks, and she was gone for one of them.

“I don’t trust her,” Megan’s voice breaks Marianne’s thoughts.

“Sophie tells me that she’s been going through some things lately,” Charline chimes in next. “A lot can happen in 2 weeks, so maybe she did change.”

Charline and Megan go back and forth with their conflicting opinions on the blonde. Marianne stays quiet, absorbing all their words. She doesn’t know what to think anymore. On one hand, Megan is right. Marianne barely knows anything about her, only sharing a few conversations and an intimate night. On the other hand, Charline also has a point. Sophie, who knows Héloïse the best, can vouch for her and will tell you Héloïse is a good person. People are allowed to change and learn from mistakes, but does Marianne want to risk it?

She does feel a weird connection with Héloïse and she’s sure it’s reciprocated. It scares her. Héloïse is like staring into a vast ocean, stuck on a small piece of land with nothing. Feeling of hopelessness. Fear that Héloïse will be the one to break her beyond repair. Héloïse reminds her of everything that she fears. She decides that they’ll be friends.

* * *

The weekend passes by quickly. Marianne spent most – if not all her time in gallery prepping paintings to be shipped. Before her father died, he has drilled into her head the process of it. She spends two full business days preparing one painting to ship. He always said, “If it’s not perfectly done, then don’t bother shipping it and putting our name on it.” So, she spends all the time she can doing each task, paying extra attention to detail and never rushing herself. She’s exhausted by the end of the weekend.

Monday approaches and Marianne’s becoming increasingly stressed out. Three weeks from now, she’d be flying to Milan to potentially buy a million-dollar painting and she’s somehow already behind in her school work. Between worrying about her family’s art gallery and maintaining passing grades is difficult. Every year it gets harder as she takes on more responsibility. Now, she’s stuck planning a week-long trip while having to find time to study for two midterms before then. Marianne doesn’t think much about Héloïse that weekend.

Marianne huffs as she sits down on the rock-hard chair a little too hard. This startles the blonde who looks away from her laptop and at Marianne. Marianne doesn’t look at her, scared that making eye-contact would somehow make it worse.

“What’s wrong?” Héloïse says, her voice draws hazel eyes to meet blue. It does make it worse. Marianne feels uneasy under intense eyes.

“Just stressed about life,” Marianne responds. She sounds stupid and cliché, but it’s true. Everything is stressing her out.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Yes.

“No,” Marianne sighs. “I’m okay, I just need to get through this week.”

Héloïse nods, unconvincingly. Marianne didn’t care enough to put on fake mask. She’s tired to the core. The TA starts their introduction lecture and quickly explains what they’re going to be doing today. For the next 3 weeks, the partners are to choose a composition and analyze it. This week is focused on choosing a piece and research the inspiration behind why the composer wrote it.

The class fills with a white noise of chatter. Marianne is still sulking over her life while Héloïse resituates herself in her chair to turn to Marianne. Her back is against the wall, legs up and feet against Marianne’s chair. Héloïse doesn’t say anything. She watches Marianne. She’s fumbling around on her keyboard, the gracefulness not present. She can tell Marianne’s having a rough time.

“Please stop looking at me,” Marianne voices, but her focus is still on her laptop. She’s making a lot of mistakes.

Héloïse doesn’t stop. Instead, she asks, “Why?”

There’s a pause. Marianne shoulders stiffen, she’s more tense. “It makes me uncomfortable.” Héloïse doesn’t evert her eyes. Marianne finally turns to lock eyes with her.

Marianne’s always been uncomfortable being stared at. It’s the consciousness of being looked at, becoming aware that the gaze makes her an object. She knows this too well. Her father told her that the gaze is an asymmetric act of looking, an unequal power dynamic. He taught her that as an artist, you must hold the gaze and not be gazed upon. He told her that’s the only way to be a great artist.

But the gaze she holds with Héloïse is different.

It is not an unequal power dynamic. It is between them; spectator and model and their roles reverse to infinity. It is a mediation of power. Where they both simultaneously are equally oppressed and liberated. They both hold power. Their gaze is stable. A strange feeling for Marianne and it doesn’t make her feel any less uncomfortable. She has to remind herself that they are only friends.

They hold this stare for what feels like forever. Héloïse eventually breaks it, instead looking at something behind Marianne. “Do you have a song in mind?”

Héloïse looks at her back. “What about ‘Summer’?”

* * *

Each passing day whittles down Marianne more and more. There’s always something new. More assignments, more midterms, more potential buyers. She’s drowning now. Megan and Charline tries to help her as much as they can, but it’s never enough. Marianne’s becoming more irritable, inpatient and overall a terrible person to be around. They reassure her that she’s not, but the voice in her head says otherwise.

Despite being exhausted to her soul, the week thankfully passes by quickly. Marianne has somehow done the impossible and finished all her assignments on time. She starts to feel a little better, less stressed but still very tense.

Now, she’s sitting in her usual seat and waiting for Héloïse. Not that she’ll ever admit that she is. Her focus on her laptop, trying to start and assignment due next week to get ahead. She’s easily distracted by sounds of students entering. Hopeful that it’s the blonde. But it never is. Héloïse doesn’t show up for the entire class and she didn’t try to contact Marianne.

Marianne felt her absence.

Marianne was in a bad mood for the rest of Friday. Charline tries to convince Marianne to go to a party, but she declines, saying that she’s swamped with work. Despite hours of pleads, Marianne doesn’t alter her decision. She’s really not in the mood to interact with anyone. She insisted Charline to go to the party alone, but her best friend declined. Now, Marianne is at her desk working on her assignments while Charline lies in her bed and watches a movie. Just enjoying each other’s presence.

Marianne has her headphones in with music blaring through them. The playlist she made takes her away from reality. She puts all her focus into her work, ignoring the lingering irritation that Héloïse didn’t explain her disappearance. Marianne works until her mind is clouded from tiredness. Sometime during this, Charline retires to her own room. The apartment is silent, only the sound of Marianne typing carries through the air. Eventually, Marianne falls asleep herself, her final thought is of the blonde.

Saturday starts with the sun high in the sky and the smell of bacon present in the air. Marianne has asked to stay home today from the gallery to spend as much time as she can studying and doing homework. Megan agreed without argument, but Marianne can’t help but feel a little guilty. She eats swiftly and cleans the dishes faster. Then she’s back in her room finishing up the assignment from last night.

Half way through the day, Charline brings Marianne a bowl of pasta. They both eat their lunch together in Marianne’s room. Charline opted to sit on the floor with her back against Marianne’s bed, while Marianne is turned towards her in her office chair.

“I invited some people over tonight for wine and movie night,” Charline says with a mouth full of pasta.

Marianne slumps in her seat, “I don’t have time Charline.”

Charline doesn’t listen to Marianne’s complaining, “I invited Sophie, Héloïse and Josh.” Marianne remembers Josh, the one they played beer pong with and in Charline’s program. He’s the one that introduced Sophie and Charline to each other.

Marianne tenses at her name. She would’ve considered them friends, but friends would tell each other if they weren’t going to class. Héloïse hasn’t even attempted to contact her. They follow each other on Instagram and they have each other’s number, but silence is all she has received. Clearly, Héloïse doesn’t value Marianne’s friendship enough to tell her. Maybe the desire between them was all in Marianne’s head.

Marianne doesn’t argue anymore, just hoping that Héloïse will not show. Once the two were finished their food, Charline left Marianne to get back to her work. Marianne manages to finish two assignments just in time to fit in a shower before everyone should be arriving. The hot water on her skin washes away all the tension and stress she has felt for the past week. She’s finally in a position where she can relax a little.

She stays in the shower until the water runs cold and the bathroom becomes a sauna. She dries herself off with a towel, haphazardly wrapping it around her naked body and exits the bathroom without much thought. She hears music when she opens the door, but doesn’t pay too much attention to it. She takes 3 swift steps to make it into her room, failing to notice the body sitting on her bed as she enters.

“I like this outfit on you.” Marianne freezes. She doesn’t want to look at her bed, but she can see legs spread out over the side of her bed out of the side of her eyes. Marianne prays this is a dream.

After a second of mustering up confidence, the barely covered Marianne turns towards to the stranger. Her eyes meet dark blue ones, definitely from dilated pupils. Her lips are curled into a smirk and her hair is down, messily falling just past her shoulder. She’s in a black long sleeve shirt, brown pants that cut off short with long white socks pulled up. There’s a gold chain hanging from her neck, the same one from the Instagram post. She’s leaning back on Marianne’s bed, propped up by her arms extended backwards.

Marianne feels blood rush to her head, becoming slightly light headed from embarrassment. She watches Héloïse look at her up and down, objectifying her. The mood in her room is set incredibly well. It’s dark, just only with her desk light on, giving it an intimate vibe, but Marianne doesn’t want it to be intimate. The door is thankfully still open.

“Why are you in here?” Marianne questions as she tightens the towel around her.

Héloïse shrugs. Her eyes move to look into Marianne’s. Marianne can feel the passion from them. Memories of their drunken night together resurfaces. “Charline told me to go look around if I wanted. I thought you would’ve put on clothes before leaving the shower.” Héloïse does have a point.

“Yeah, I don’t do that in my house,” Marianne explains. She nervously stands there under the gaze of Héloïse. “Could you get out so I can change?”

Héloïse does one last look over at Marianne. Her lips still in a smirk as she gets up. She stands at eye level with Marianne, less than a metre away. Marianne’s breath is trapped at her throat. They stare at each other for a moment. She can tell Héloïse wants to reach out. Marianne wants to feel Héloïse’s hands on her skin, but no one acts on it.

Héloïse leaves the room and Marianne releases a huge exhale. She tries to calm herself down but the feeling in her stomach is overwhelming. Burning. Something she feels too often around Héloïse, but it warms her cold soul. Maybe it’ll melt all the ice away. No, they’re only friends. She quickly pushes the thought away and starts getting dressed, opting for some shorts and a sweater.

She exits her room; her wet hair falls just above her shoulders and greets everyone in the living room. Everyone was already seated in front of the TV, seemingly waiting for Marianne to join them. There are five of them, and there is only space for four people in their small living room. There’s one three-person sofa and a singular couch. Josh somehow got lucky and claimed the small couch.

Marianne walks towards the couch, wondering how the four of them will fit. Before that can be an issue, Héloïse’s phone rings. She fishes it out of her pocket with everyone’s eyes on her. Marianne stops beside Josh, waiting for Héloïse to pick up the phone. Héloïse sees the screen and sighs. Marianne can hear the irritation in that sigh. Sophie, who is beside her sees the name on the screen and looks at Héloïse with an apologetic look. Héloïse holds her phone up to her ear.

“Juliette?” Isn’t that Héloïse’s ex? An unsettling feeling forms in Marianne’s stomach. Her eyes go blurry. “No, I said I was out with friends.” The room is silent. Everyone is listening to the Héloïse’s annoyed voice intently. “No. Stop. I’m not leaving. No, I don’t care.” A pause. “Whatever. Okay, bye.”

She hangs up. Blue eyes meet hazel.

Marianne feels like a fool again.

Okay, maybe Marianne isn’t a fool. When Héloïse hung up, the room was oddly eerie. Sophie had an angry expression on her face, very uncharacteristic for her. Héloïse’s body radiates fire, everyone in the room is scared to talk, in case she’ll explode. Her fingers grip her phone hard, going slightly white.

“She’s going to be the death of me,” Héloïse voices after taking a second to compose herself.

“Why don’t you just break up with her?” Josh asks. Marianne wonders why Juliette is even in the picture anymore. Especially if they broke up.

Sophie somehow heard the questions in Marianne’s head. Her brown eyes turn to Marianne and explains, “Héloïse is forced to date Juliette.”

Forced? Marianne grows more confused.

“My mother is dying,” Héloïse’s voice is quiet. Marianne feels a pang in her chest. She knows the feeling all too well. “Her last wish is to see me get married which will happen after school, so I set up this deal with Juliette and at first it was cool, but now she’s getting clingy. Like, we’re not actually dating, yet she acts like a manipulative bitch.” The quiet voice is replaced by malice. “That’s why I missed all those classes. I was either visiting my mom or having to deal with Juliette’s stupid shit.”

So, Héloïse didn’t really cheat on Juliette. Technically?

“Yeah, and it’s not like there are many people that would agree to do this, so Héloïse is kind of stuck with Juliette. Plus, her mom likes Juliette, so that’s a plus I guess,” Sophie explains next.

The room is silent. Marianne suddenly feels guilty. Héloïse’s mother is dying and she’s forced to fake marry someone in order to please her. That is a lot to handle, even for someone like Héloïse. That’s as complicated as it gets. All that resentment and negativity Marianne displayed towards Héloïse feels now uncalled for. Yes, Héloïse could’ve told her from the beginning, but that’s not really something you can bring up in daily conversation, or if you were drunk. Marianne also didn’t really allow for Héloïse to explain when she asked either.

Héloïse wasn’t the one being a bad friend, Marianne was. She’s always giving her a hard time.

Something overcomes Marianne. She feels empathy and wants to help Héloïse, but how? Everyone seems to be in deep thought about the situation. Héloïse doesn’t seem to be disturbed though, more displeased than anything. Marianne assumes it’s because Héloïse has already come to terms with this.

“Well, enough about me and my shitty ass situation. Let’s just-” Héloïse is cut off.

“What if I was your fake girlfriend?”

All eyes turn to Marianne.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you all for reading :)


	8. Chapter 8

“What if I was your fake girlfriend?”

All eyes are on Marianne now. It’s silent. Charline’s mouth agape. Héloïse’s eyes full of surprise. Sophie is speechless.

No one says anything. Marianne becomes increasingly uncomfortable. She shifts her weight from side to side. Anxiety festers up. The silencing is deafening and her ears start to ring. She doesn’t know where the idea or the courage to say it came from. It was fleeting, like everything in her life.

Josh breaks the silence first, “That’s not a terrible idea.”

Silence again. Maybe they need more encouragement.

“What’s the big deal? It’s not like it’s going to change anything. Héloïse and I are friends,” Marianne continues. Her voice is gaining confidence. “This way, you can show up to all your classes and you don’t have to deal with Juliette. So, if you ask me, this sounds like a win-win situation for her and me.”

Héloïse’s eyes are burning into Marianne. She feels empowered under her gaze, like Héloïse is the kindling she needed to start a fire within. It liberates her. Charline doesn’t look convinced at all. Sophie looks like she’s considering the plan.

“Can I speak to you in private?” Charline asks, her voice barely makes it through her gritted teeth. Marianne nods and they excuse themselves into Marianne’s room. Charline’s footsteps were stomps. Heavy and full of doubt. “What are you doing?” Her voice is hushed, but there’s a franticness to it.

“It’s not a bad idea,” Marianne’s voice is equally as hushed and frenzied. “It’s not like I like her or anything, we’re just friends and if this helps her show up to class then it helps me stress less.”

Charline absorbs Marianne’s words. Marianne can hear the three out in the living room having their own quiet conversation. Eventually, Charline relaxes, finally understanding Marianne’s point. There’s still a hesitation. “I’m still not convinced.”

“Trust me Charlie. I swear there’s nothing more between us. This is more for me than for her.”

One moment passes. Charline is starting to relax, but Marianne is sure she’ll never fully accept this. Marianne looks hopefully into Charline’s eyes. At first, she gets nothing in return, but slowly it shines with agreeance. Marianne shoots her a wide grin before the two exit the room and remerge into the group. The living room goes silent from prior conversation and everyone exchanges tight smiles.

Héloïse smiles at Marianne and it’s surprisingly genuine. She returns one back. No one talks about this further, probably saving it for after the movie and giving more time to think. Charline takes a seat at one end of the couch, forcing Marianne to sit in between Héloïse and Charline. She takes her seat, fully aware that she’s basically sitting on Héloïse’s lap. They’re legs are pressed together. Marianne’s back is pining Héloïse’s left arm to the couch. She’s hyperaware of the fact that their bodies are so close. Héloïse feels so warm beside her. They are both tensed. Marianne keeps in mind that they need to get a bigger couch.

As Charline’s focused on putting on the movie, Marianne turns to Héloïse and whispers, “Are you comfortable?”

Héloïse looks at her. Her blue eyes glowing with the light from the TV. “Yes, don’t worry.”

Marianne still worries. Somehow, Marianne was excluded from the conversation on what movie they were going to watch. The four settled on a new horror movie that Marianne has never heard of before. Marianne has always hated horror movies as she’s easy to scare. Before the movie starts, a very large blanket is draped over the four girls.

They’re half way through the movie, Marianne’s on edge and all of them are tipsy, besides Héloïse. The movie has been building up the tension for the entire duration and Marianne knows the climax is coming soon. She fiddles with her hands in her lap, trying her best to keep from screaming every time there’s something new on the screen. She doesn’t know what she’s more scared of, the movie or Héloïse’s arm that’s wrapped around her waist. She finds herself melting into Héloïse’s embrace. She blames it on the wine in her blood.

The movie finished and the group was left speechless. Marianne’s proud of herself for watching the entire movie and not leaving half-way despite how much she wanted to. Partly because the movie was interesting and well done, but mostly because she was too comfortable leaning into Héloïse. It didn’t help when she felt Héloïse’s hand plant on her hip, rubbing small circles on her skin between her shirt and shorts. A small act of intimacy felt like a sun was being created in the vastness of space – a rebirth.

Definitely the alcohol talking.

Everyone took a second to recover from the ending of the movie, then the uproar of conversation fills the air. Charline was first to get up, complaining about her leg falling asleep. Sophie stands next to help Charline put away the wine glasses. The extra space on the couch should’ve prompted Marianne to move away from Héloïse, but she doesn’t. She feels a sense of Stockholm syndrome while trapped in Héloïse’s vicinity.

The look she earned from Charline was the moving force that makes Marianne release from Héloïse’s embrace. The absence of the blonde’s warmth is felt, reminding Marianne that life is made of fleeting moments.

During the movie, a huge storm picked up outside without the group’s knowledge. Héloïse drove everyone in her Urus, which is now covered under a blanket of white snow. The entirety of the sky is white. Filled with unique snowflakes that fall majestically. The cold wind is strong, blowing and whining through the buildings of an empty Paris. The conditions are extremely unsafe. Not a single soul dares to fall victim to this snowstorm. This feels all a little too familiar for Marianne.

“Looks like you guys are stuck here for the night,” Charline says from the kitchen with Sophie. Marianne and Héloïse notice the two whispering below their breath. They share a glance, but look away quickly. As if they are afraid of being caught.

“I call couch,” Josh calls out first. He stands to stretch, the noise he releases is horrid and loud.

Marianne feels like all the attention is on her now. She knows that her words linger in everyone’s head. She feels like an object, where this is an asymmetrical act of looking, something that her father taught her never to fall victim to. She feels a deep anxiety arise when she thinks about him. The memories of that night appear in her mind. The wind picks up outside. She excuses herself quickly, her breath short and rapid as she does.

Her feet move at record speed. She shoots across the apartment and closes her bedroom door behind her. Memories of her parents fill her mind. She misses them one second, the next she doesn’t. It doesn’t stop, this constant merry-go-round that she’s stuck on. Her breathing becomes quicker and shorter. Her lungs refuse to take in any oxygen. She’s afraid that she’ll suffocate while being surrounded by the thing she needs most.

The world spins around her, but she’s stuck in one place. She remembers it all, something that she has repressed so well resurfaces. Grey skies, heavy snow fall. She remembers each and every snowflake that fell that night. Red and blue lights flash outside the door. A knock. Marianne’s eyes wide, phone in hand. She thought she was doing the right thing.

Her chest is tight. Her lungs begging. Her shaky hands scratch at her throat, maybe somehow it will open the valve to let air in, but it doesn’t. She doesn’t hear the door open, or see anything besides blackness. She feels arms wrap around her, holding her tightly. Warmth, a flame ignites. Her eyes are still closed, her chest heaving. She feels the slow breathing of the person behind her.

Marianne tries to match it. Air enters her lungs. The thoughts burn as her body fills with the fire. The memories descend back into the void. She prays that these arms never release her.

After a moment, she opens her eyes. She reminds herself that she’s okay. The arms are still tight about her torso, clenched fists remain under her breasts. The smell is familiar. She looks down to see white-knuckled fists that look afraid to let go. The right hand has a rose on it. It’s artistic, the shading intricate.

Héloïse.

“Are you okay?” The voice a mere whisper in her left ear. The hot breath felt on her ear. There’s concern in the voice. Softness.

She doesn’t answer. Instead, she turns, breaking the hold that Héloïse has on her. Blue eyes search for answers in hazel, but there are none there. The gaze – a mediation of power.

A knock on Marianne’s closed door brings her back to reality. She doesn’t try to use her voice. Scared that any deviations will raise alarm. It’s Charline’s voice on the other side of the physical barrier. She announces that Josh is sleeping on the couch and Sophie will sleep with her. Marianne doesn’t argue, her heart rate still high. Charline and Sophie says good night then the room goes quiet. 

How did this happen? Marianne’s now stuck sleeping with Héloïse. They probably assumed such just because they are both in her room with the door closed. And with her ragged breathing. Marianne shakes the thought away. Her eyes haven’t left Héloïse, but she realizes she also hasn’t answered her question. Marianne has been under a lot of stress recently, making her anxiety attacks easily triggered.

All she can muster up is a small nod. It was enough for Héloïse thankfully. Marianne then decides to sit on her bed, needing a second to regain herself and absorb everything that is happening. She regrets her decision to drink as she pinches the bridge of her nose while taking deep breaths. Héloïse sit down beside her to the right, she can feel the lasers coming out of concerned blue eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Marianne whispers after a while. She doesn’t dare look at Héloïse, scared of her reaction. The room is dead silent.

“Don’t be,” Héloïse’s voice reassures Marianne. “My sister used to get them all the time.”

Sister. Héloïse has never mentioned a sister.

“How did she get them to stop?”

There was a hesitation. Marianne looks at Héloïse. She hangs her head, her hands clenched together. “She didn’t. She killed herself.” Héloïse’s thumb continually brushes the rose on her right hand.

Silence hangs in the air again. Marianne is taken by surprise. Most because Héloïse easily admitted it. Marianne has never said out loud that her parents are dead. She didn’t need to, everyone already knew.

“Why?”

Héloïse moves her head to look at Marianne. She can see them watering up, but there’s blank emotion in them. Her lips are tight, trying to keep composure. “No one has ever asked me that.” Silence again. Marianne doesn’t want to speak; in case it provokes Héloïse. “She never really said in the letter she left. I think the pressure of life just got to her.”

Marianne nods. She offers a reassuring smile, which Héloïse accepts. She wants to tell her about her parents, but she can’t muster up the words to. So, they sit there in silence. She hopes that Héloïse knows that she understands. Marianne reaches out, placing her hand onto Héloïse’s clenched fists and the blonde relaxes. The wind picks up outside, low whining can be heard as the wind blows the snow around. They stay like this. Warm and with each other.

After a while, they agree to go to bed. Marianne is looking into her dresser, trying to find something to give Héloïse to wear. “What do you wear to sleep?”

“Nothing usually, but a t-shirt is fine.”

Marianne ignores the comment and throws Héloïse a t-shirt. She crawls into her bed, facing towards the wall so Héloïse can change behind her. She hears the sound of clothes dropping to the ground. She wants to turn to look at the blonde, but she doesn’t. She waits until Héloïse crawls into bed beside her.

They’re inches apart, heads on separate pillows. Marianne’s hands at tucked under her head, Héloïse’s hands are crossed against her chest. Their eyes are on each other. There’s a slight smile on Héloïse’s lips. Marianne finds her so charming.

“Fake girlfriend, huh?” Héloïse says to break the silence. Her voice is light, changing the dreary mood in the room.

“It’s not a bad idea,” Marianne responds, a small smile appears onto her lips. Héloïse’s eyes drop to them. “If it means you won’t miss anymore seminars.”

Héloïse takes a second to ponder. “Will you be my fake girlfriend?” Her smile turns into a stupid smirk. Marianne’s convinced that she doesn’t know how to smile properly.

“Yes.”

Marianne has never seen Héloïse's eyes so bright. 

* * *

Sophie, Héloïse and Josh leave early in the morning. Héloïse lingered around for as long as she could. Héloïse and Marianne fell asleep a little after they started fake dating. They talked about everything and nothing until their eyes could no longer stay open. Marianne woke up to the sound of knocking on her door with Héloïse’s arm around her waist. She was facing away from her and she can feel Héloïse’s breathing on her back. It was oddly relaxing with no yelling ex.

Charline asked Marianne a multitude of questions as soon as the three drove away. An interrogation that Marianne wasn’t really prepared for. Charline asked if they had sex, which Marianne truthfully answered. She did mention that Héloïse and her are fake dating now.

“Well, this will be interesting,” is all Charline says before hoping into the shower.

Since Marianne was able to get two assignments done yesterday, she decides to spend the day at the art gallery and hang out with Megan. The roads were slippery on the way there, traffic was slower than ever and the sky still a colourless grey. It was still snowing since last night as Marianne exits her car and into the snow. She greets Megan at the front desk and notices that the art gallery is fairly empty.

“Slow day?”

“Shitty weather,” Megan answers back. She turns her chair to face the standing Marianne with her arms crossed. “How are you?”

“I’ve been better. I had a really stressful week,” Marianne answers. She hesitates to tell Megan the next part, “I had an anxiety attack yesterday night about...” Her voice trails off. Megan uncrosses her arms and her face shows concern. Marianne’s quick to reassure her, “It’s okay though. Héloïse was there to help me.”

“Héloïse?"

“Yeah, she was at my house yesterday.” Marianne sees Megan hesitate to ask her questions. “Charline invited her over with a few others for a movie night. I drank, memories came back and yeah long story short we’re kind of fake dating now.”

“What?” Megan raises her voice, alarming the guests. She gives them an apologetic smile before her fiery eyes turn back to Marianne. “What the fuck is fake dating?”

Marianne knows she’s in trouble now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey everyone, hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. just wanted to start off by saying thank you to those who comment, I do read each and every one of them. i love seeing your reactions to my chapters. secondly i depicted an anxiety attack as how i know it, but if it does trouble any of you please let me know how i can change it. thank you for reading!


	9. Chapter 9

After hours of convincing Megan that the situation isn’t a big deal, she started to slowly understand what Marianne’s intentions are. Though, no matter what Marianne says and no matter how long she spends convincing them, they will never truly be convinced. Marianne returns home when the sun has gone to sleep. Charline is in her room listening to music and painting her nails.

Marianne enters her room and instantly falls into her large office chair. No matter how much she likes to think being at the gallery is a break, she always comes home exhausted. Héloïse has been texting her the entire day on and off – mostly discussing their assignment together, nothing too special. Marianne ignores the flutter in her stomach every single time Héloïse’s name pops up on her phone.

Marianne checks her phone, subtly hoping that Héloïse would’ve texted her back by now, but nothing. She drops her phone haphazardly onto her table in defeat. She sighs some of the weight away and goes to start her laptop, but there’s a note there.

It reads: _don’t make plans for after class tomorrow – H_

A smile appears on Marianne’s lips. Her chest has a bizarre warming feeling to it and her stomach suddenly churns. She just really likes hanging out with Héloïse. Her friend. Fake girlfriend, but friend nonetheless. She can’t wait for tomorrow now.

* * *

Marianne’s sitting in the same foyer as always before her Monday seminar. The weather has been nice today. The sun is high in the sky providing much needed warmth from the snowstorm during the weekend. It was cold enough so that the snow didn’t melt, only reflecting the sun’s rays making Paris brighter than it already is. It was overall a beautiful day. She’s anxiously waiting for the perfect time to start heading to class. She didn’t want to seem too eager.

She was busy writing notes out for her midterm that is on Friday. It was the for the Gender and Art class and she already knows she’s going to do poorly on it. All the lecture notes she has does not contain a single note that she added. It was never anything important or at least she thought, but now she’s stuck looking at slides that she cannot comprehend. Her mind is elsewhere though, which definitely plays into the reason why she’s unable to understand. She’s distracted.

She watches the clock tick away. Anxiously waiting. She’s excited to see what Héloïse has planned for after class – hopefully something to distract her from the midterm. She goes back to trying to focus on the slide and manages to get one done before she has to get to class. Her feet walk faster than normal, tapping on the tile floor is louder than normal due to urgency.

Marianne makes it to class before Héloïse does. She takes her normal seat and waits. She fiddles with her laptop keyboard, not actually typing anything. Marianne usually arrives later than Héloïse, so this is a weird change. The students around her flood into the room, taking their usual seat. The time is approaching close to when the seminar is starting. Marianne knows the TA is about to start her lecture. She checks her messages. Nothing.

A kiss on her cheek sends a rush of freight. Héloïse maneuvers herself between the chair and the table before sitting down loudly. A smirk forms on her face when she sees Marianne’s reaction. Eyes wide, mouth agape. Deer in headlights. “Hey babe,” Marianne’s legs melt. _Babe._ Who needs legs anyway?

Friends. Marianne has to remind herself that they are only friends. Nothing else.

The TA starts her lecture before Marianne could say anything back to Héloïse. She must admit that this girl too confident for her own good. Anyone else, she would’ve definitely been slapped.

 **Marianne:** what the fuck was that? you scared the shit out of me I was about to punch you

 **Héloïse:** just saying hi to my gf??? is that a crime?

 **Marianne:** you know we’re not actually dating right

 **Héloïse:** wait what?!?!?!?!? when did we break up????

 **Marianne:** i-

 **Héloïse:** im fucking w u ik we aren’t dating just gotta do this for show baybee

 **Héloïse:** once ppl start realizing we’re dating then Juliette will hopefully leave me alone

 **Marianne:** what if she calls you a cheater and me a bitch for taking you? It’s bad for my image

 **Héloïse:** if she calls u anything then ill fucking fight her don’t worry :)

 **Marianne:** that makes me even more worried

The two of them text each other for the duration of the TA’s lecture, none of them paying attention to the material. The class uproars with chatter. It breaks the concentration of the partners from their texting. Héloïse faces Marianne, a small smirk sits on her face. Every day that passes, Marianne has learned to love that smirk more and more.

They stop texting each other and start working on their assignment. Marianne has to admit that this is one the easiest classes she has ever taken. Plus, she has a partner that she actually likes. Usually, she’s stuck with braindead people but Héloïse actually puts in a lot of work.

“What are you doing?” Héloïse asks watching Marianne type up an email.

“Selling art,” She responds, focused.

Héloïse watches her fingers move elegantly across the keyboard. Marianne notices the hesitation in Héloïse’s actions, her leg anxiously bounces. She continues to type the email, waiting for Héloïse to speak.

“Would you like to come with me to Milan during reading week? To meet my mom.” Héloïse’s voice was timid. Marianne assumes that she must have been apprehensive to ask. Which is out of character for Héloïse.

Marianne’s stunned. She didn’t really think this whole fake dating arrangement through. Impulsive decision made without much thought, completely oblivious to the fact that she would actually have to meet Héloïse’s mother. Héloïse must’ve noticed Marianne’s alarm. She puts a hand on Marianne’s knee, thinking it would provide reassurance but it sends a shiver down her spine instead.

What a coincidence that Marianne is buying artwork in Milan and Héloïse’s mother is also there. There’s no way Marianne could say no.

“I’m going to be in Milan then anyway, so I don’t really have a choice, do I?”

Héloïse gives her a full grin while shaking her head. Blue eyes are so bright, like the sky on a hot summer’s day. Marianne could fly in them and get lost.

“You’re the best girlfriend ever.”

Marianne doesn’t say anything. The butterflies in her stomach cloud her mind. She just gets back to her email, ignoring the sensation of warmth in her chest.

_Friends. Just friends._

They work for another 30 minutes before Héloïse gets bored and wants to leave. They haven’t spoken about the note that Héloïse left yesterday, but Marianne follows her through silent agreement. They’re now walking through campus towards Héloïse’s car, Marianne presumes. It’s lightly snowing outside, the air not too cold and the sky grey. It’s weirdly quiet out. They really haven’t spoken much besides Héloïse telling her to pack up.

Marianne’s one step behind Héloïse. Her eyes glued on the back of the blonde. She watches the way her blonde hair tied in a bun bounces with each step she takes. The way her shoulders sway, the confidence she carries. It all is mesmerizing to Marianne. Her eyes don’t stray from Héloïse. She gets an urge to paint, but it quickly vanishes.

Cars start to appear in their sights. Marianne can spot Héloïse’s expensive super SUV from the other cars. It sticks out like a sore thumb. She’s not surprised that Héloïse would drive a Lamborghini Urus. At least it isn’t bright red or something. Still, it’s quite pretentious.

As they approach the car, Héloïse unlocks it. The LED headlights flash bright white, blinding Marianne. They both enter the car, Marianne paying extra attention to not ruin the red interior. The car roars alive by the press of a button and Héloïse is quick to blast the heat. 

“Where are we going?” Marianne questions.

“You’ll see,” Héloïse says, turning her head with a smirk. Her blue eyes are electric.

The entire trip took 10 minutes. Each minute was spent examining Héloïse. The way her blonde hair falls from the messy bun under her black beanie. How her blue eyes narrow each light to see the street name. The maliciousness in her profanities when someone cuts her off. The way she drives, with her arm on the steering She notices that Héloïse always gives her a sideway smirk when she turns her head. Everything about Héloïse is captivating.

Héloïse pulls into a public storage unit. It’s completely empty, only one car parked at the front. Marianne looks around, the environment giving a strangely ominous feeling due to the haze the snow gives. The car is silent as well, only hearing the low purr of the engine. For some reason, Héloïse refuses to listen to music while driving, something about it being hard to see with music on.

Héloïse pulls up to a unit 29. One last look at Marianne as she stops the car. There is sadness in those eyes. They’re in the car one second and out the next. Marianne exits the car too, circling around the back to see Héloïse unlocking the unit. She hooks the open lock into her belt then bends to slide the metal door open. Marianne stands behind her watching.

The metal door slides open with ease, creating a nerve-racking sound as it scrapes against other metals. Inside is quite small, only a few large objects occupy the concrete space and they are all covered by a white cloth. Marianne stands outside the unit as Héloïse enters. She watches the blonde slowly approach a large rectangular object on the ground. Héloïse turns and gestures Marianne to come closer, which she does. She stands beside the blonde. Their shoulders close to brushing.

Héloïse holds up the foreign item and props it against her leg to start taking off the white linen. Underneath reveals a painting of a woman in a dress that is on fire. There’s a dark wooden frame that holds the painting with intricate patterns carved into it. The woman seems to be in a field of some sorts. It is vast, empty, nothing to see in sight except for mountains in the distance. The moon that is painted in the blue sky behind white clouds with grey clouds off in the back. It looks like a summer storm is approaching to extinguish the woman.

Marianne finds the painting mesmerizing. It looks very warn out. She estimates it ust be hundreds of years old. The choice of colours used and the techniques used are methodical. Everything in this painting is precisely where it’s supposed to me. Marianne could only wish to paint this well. For some reason, it starts a flurry of emotions inside Marianne.

“Do you like it?” Héloïse says after a while. She watches Marianne’s hazel eyes scan the painting over and over again.

“Yes, it’s captivating,” Marianne responds, her eyes still captured by the artwork.

“It’s yours if you want it.”

Marianne breaks her eyes from the piece and connect it with blue eyes. They seem different. Definitely sadder, but more passionate. Dark blue, calming almost. “What? No, I couldn’t just take this from you.”

“It’s not a big deal. It’s sitting here collecting dust anyway. Marie – my sister – used to be really into art and this was her favourite. I thought maybe you could do something useful with it.”

Marianne’s heart warms. She nods, not trusting her voice. All her emotions sit in her throat.

* * *

Marianne pushes the back-studio door open. She steps in and the warmth engulfs her. She holds the door open for Héloïse who carefully steps in with the painting in hand. As quiet as possible, Marianne closes the back door and opens the white wooden one to the back-storage area. They both step in, Marianne gestures Héloïse to put on the large work table as she goes to take off her winter clothing. Once the painting was down, Héloïse does the same, unzipping her winter jacket.

Marianne uncovers the white linen from the artwork and examines it. The wood from the frame has warped over the years and there is an evident layer of dust that has collected on the old varnish. Héloïse goes to stand behind Marianne. Their bodies are so close but not touching and Marianne can feel Héloïse’s breath on her hear. Her body feels like it’s about to be set on fire. Her heart is beating into her ears.

“What do you do now?” Héloïse’s voice is hushed. Her hot breath sends shivers down Marianne’s spine.

“Get it out of its frame, clean it, fix the warping of the stretcher, touch it up if there’s lost paint then put it back together.” Marianne explains it all too quickly for Héloïse to comprehend. “I have a midterm on Friday though, I don’t know if I’ll have time to do it.”

“I can help you study if it helps. I do have a 4.0 GPA.” A brag like always.

“You’re too cocky for your own good. We should talk about this fake dating thing. Make some rules,” Marianne says. She’s tenses feeling Héloïse slightly brush her back. Marianne turns, her back against the table. Héloïse is only a few inches away from her. There’s a tension in the air. She rolls her eyes when they connect with blue. Marianne feels like she can’t breathe. The air is too thick.

“Okay, like what?”

“Like since we’re friends, no kissing, no touching inappropriate, no sex. Just friends. This is all for show. For your mom and for my sanity,” Marianne’s voice becomes a whisper towards the end, her eyes travel to Héloïse’s lips. Of course, there’s that stupid smirk on them.

“That’s what Juliette and I did. She was helping me keep my mom off my ass and I was helping her keep her ex-boyfriend away.,” Héloïse says, closing the gap in between them. “But I want it to be different with you.”

Héloïse leans closer, her arms grasp the table, trapping Marianne in between them. A sense of Stockholm Syndrome is back. Being trapped in Héloïse’s presence is so comforting. Their faces are only an inch apart. Marianne wants to taste her lips. Héloïse’s lips are part, her breath touching Marianne’s lips. Their eyes travel from each other to lips then back up. Héloïse leans in a little bit more.

“Héloïse, this is a bad idea,” Marianne’s whispers, their lips brushing. Marianne feels herself about to explode. Ticking away like a bomb.

The door swings open, hitting the wall hard and sending a loud echo through the gallery. “Am I interrupting something?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys im sorry for not updating yesterday. i think i'm going to have to stick to updating every other day because there arent enough hours for me to write a complete chapter. i will try to get it back to daily updates, but for now every other day. i hope you guys understand and enjoyed this chapter!! :)))))
> 
> p.s also made a playlist for this fic if you're interested (i find it easier to keep a tone of a chapter when listening to music)  
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4jLlpIv8YPF5KWzv4qkUwR?si=5WVPqWWUSECPIpRVIfytTA


	10. Chapter 10

Héloïse pushes away from Marianne at lightning speed. Marianne turns around so fast, she’s convinced she now has whiplash. Megan stands at the door, hands on her hips and trying to look intimidating. Marianne knows this is a façade, meant to scare Héloïse, but Marianne doesn’t know how well it’ll work. Megan is one of the least intimidating people that graces this planet.

“What’s going on here?” Megan’s daunting voice is humorous. Marianne tries not to laugh.

“I- uh, nothing is happening, we’re just-” Héloïse stutters frantically.

Marianne laughs breathlessly, turning around to look at Héloïse. Megan’s angered expression turns into a smile. Héloïse stands there with eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights. She’s flabbergasted, no idea what is going on.

“I’m just messing with you. I’m Megan, Marianne’s aunt,” Megan says as she walks in with a hand extended.

Héloïse’s still stunned as she shakes the older woman’s hand nervously. “Héloïse.” Her voice is shaky. Marianne’s still giggling from Megan’s feigned anger. Must be in the top 10 for funniest moments in Marianne’s life.

“Ah yes, Marianne’s new _fake_ girlfriend.” There she goes, always making the situation more awkward than it needs to be. Héloïse gives her a tight uncomfortable smile, her blue eyes dart to Marianne asking for help. Marianne gives her back a smirk and shrugs. Oh, how the tables have turned. It’s time for Héloïse to be flustered. “What are you guys doing in here anyway?”

“Héloïse gave me this painting and I’m going to see if I can restore it. Maybe we hang it in our gallery next season,” Marianne answers, backing away from the table so Megan can look at the painting.

The older brunette examines the painting closely. Her finger tapping on her lip as she leans down to take a closer look. Megan reminds Héloïse of an older Marianne. The way their hazel eyes scan the painting is the same.

“It looks good. Let me know how the restoration goes. Just wanted to come back here and make sure no one was breaking in. I’m going to head back out, have fun back here,” Megan’s voice was a lot more suggestive than it needed to be. Marianne shoots her a glare and Megan starts to walk towards the door. Before she leaves, she turns around and gives the girls a smile. “It’s nice to meet you Héloïse.”

“Likewise,” Héloïse’s voice is still strained from the events that just occurred. Once the door clicks shut, Héloïse turns her attention back to a smiling Marianne. Marianne could see hints of red formed on Héloïse’s cheeks. “What was that?”

“That’s Megan being Megan for you. Don’t worry, she likes you,” Marianne says with her back still leaning against the table with a smirk on her lips. Her arms are crossed against her chest with Héloïse a couple of metres away.

Héloïse doesn’t say anything back this time. Marianne assumes because she’s flustered. Oh, how the tables have turned. She’ll have to thank Megan for her service. Marianne eventually stops looking at the malfunctioning blonde, turning to face to painting again. She doesn’t know when she plans on starting the restoration of this painting, but she’s excited for this project.

As she continues to inspect the condition of the work, Héloïse was walking around looking around the room. Marianne wasn’t paying much attention to her as she circles silently. Eventually, Héloïse speaks up. She’s standing in front of the racks that hang other artworks. She’s interested in one particular piece.

“Who painted this?” Marianne’s eyes trail towards Héloïse’s voice.

Her stomach drops, but she tries to keep composure. “I did.”

It’s a small portrait, done 3 years ago after her parents died. Marianne was an aspiring artist at the time, wanting to specialize in portraits, but those dreams died when they lowered her parents into the ground. She was very skilled at it, always being able to capture the emotions of the person. That was the last portrait she has ever done. Every time she would try to paint another one, memories of that night will resurface and she starts to spiral.

Marianne’s eyes anxiously watch Héloïse’s as they observe the small painting. She hopes that Héloïse doesn’t ask any questions, but she’s never been that lucky. “Who is it of?”

“Me,” Marianne answers. She pulls her eyes away from Héloïse, tears welling up. She remembers painting it so well, as if it were done yesterday.

“A self-portrait with your eyes smudged out? I think I get it.”

* * *

The Urus is parked outside of Marianne’s apartment now. Marianne has to admit that spending the afternoon with Héloïse was exciting. She had no idea where Héloïse was bringing her but for some reason, she had complete trust in the blonde. It feels genuine, never forced like her usual conversations with others. Marianne can be her true authentic self around Héloïse. She even found opening up about the portrait was easier than usual. All these positive feelings make Marianne feel unsettled though. Héloïse has the power to hurt her and that’s frightening.

Marianne feels anxiety fester up within her. She knows that this will somehow end poorly and mostly because of her. It’s always her fault that she gets hurt. So, she does the only thing that can protect her from getting hurt again. She puts up a wall, blocking all emotions and decides to end whatever is happening. 

The engine has a low hum that fills their ears. It has stopped snowing but the sky is still grey and dark. They’re silent in the car. They have barely said anything since their lips brushed. Héloïse is sat, turned towards Marianne, her right arm hands over the steering wheel. Marianne is sitting still, her head hangs as her fingers fiddle with the top of her backpack at her feet. Marianne’s hesitant to start the conversation.

“Do you like me?” Marianne somehow mustered up the confidence to ask. Her eyes don’t dare make contact with blue. So, she stares at the red leather seat.

Marianne feels like she’s a teenager again. Like she’s 14, telling her first crush that she likes them for the very time. The butterflies in the stomach, the hopefulness in their eyes, the heartbeat pounding in the ears. She’s anxious anticipating Héloïse’s answer, not really knowing which one she wants to hear.

There’s a pause. The air has become too thick to breath so Marianne holds her breath. There’s a low chuckle from Héloïse, followed by, “Yes, I do.” Her hazel eyes snap to blue and Marianne’s stomach drops. Red and blue. The butterflies are free to fly and they do, very fast. “Do you like me?” Héloïse asks back.

The butterflies quickly burn from the flame that gets lit. Fear settles in. Red and blue. She has yet to admit it to herself, but now she must tell her secret to Héloïse. “Yes,” She whispers, barely audible. Héloïse’s not even sure if she heard that right, but thankfully she doesn’t ask Marianne to repeat. There’s a smile on the blonde’s lips.

A moment passes. Marianne wants Héloïse to say something, but she doesn’t.

Another. Silence. The smile disappears, maybe because tears are falling from Marianne’s face. She doesn’t want to be hurt again. Deep down she knows that Héloïse has the power to cause insufferable pain. Héloïse moves her hand from the steering wheel, fingers wiping away the fallen tears and then she cups Marianne’s face. Marianne’s eyes close, subconsciously leaning into the warm hand.

“We should focus on being friends,” Marianne voices after she realizes what is going on. She removes her head from Héloïse’s hand. Héloïse takes her hand back, and put sit on her lap. Keeping this platonic is the right thing to do.

“Are you scared?”

Marianne nods.

Héloïse nods slowly, absorbing the words. “You would prefer me to resist?”

Those eyes are so blue. “Yes.”

“Are you asking me to?” Héloïse’s voice is reluctant.

“No.” Marianne’s voice is unsure.

Another nod from Héloïse. Acceptance. Marianne’s chest hurts, but she ignores the tightening. The oxygen in the air must be running out. This is better in the long run. She can’t get hurt this way. Her damaged heart will stay how it is.

“Well, I’ll see you on Friday then.”

Marianne nods and gets out of the car without saying another word. She doesn’t turn around approaching her door, or when she opens it. She enters into the warm house, feeling beat and battered. She trudges to her room, giving a weak hello to Charline as she passes her room. She enters her dark room, closing the door behind her, then stripping out of her clothes and goes straight into bed. Somehow, she messed it all up again. Blue is all she sees when she closes her eyes.

* * *

The week leading up to Friday dragged on for Marianne. Héloïse has seemingly fell off the face of the earth. Her name on longer coming up in conversation nor does she text Marianne anymore. Marianne knows that this is for the best, keeping their relationship strictly platonic will be beneficial for everyone. So, she keeps her sadness and sulking to herself. She busies herself with school work, spending most of her time studying for the midterm she has on Friday.

Thursday night before Marianne went to bed, Charline knocked on the door. They haven’t been talking much about anything lately. Mainly because both of them were busy and stressed out with school. Partly because Marianne doesn’t really want to talk about Héloïse, which is inevitable. Marianne’s currently in the dark with her phone held close to her face when she told Charline to come in.

“Hey, was wondering what you were up to next Friday?” Charline says peeking her face through the cracked door. The light behind her is blinding.

“Isn’t that Valentine’s day?” Marianne asks with her eyes squinted.

“Yeah, a much of us were planning on going out.”

“I can’t, working at the gallery. It’s one of the busiest days of the year.”

Charline’s shoulders slump and fakes a frown. This occurs every year, where Marianne always takes the evening shift on Valentine’s day so Megan can go on a date. It’s just their silent agreement that both of them have, but this leads to Marianne never being able to do anything for Valentine’s day. Even if she did get home early, she was always too exhausted to go out. Nonetheless, Charline will spend every day for the next week asking Marianne to go out anyway.

“It’s your last year in university. You need to experience the clubs on Valentine’s day. There are a lot of girls asking to get laid,” Charline’s voice is full of enthusiasm. Marianne wonders where all her energy comes from.

“I’ll think about it.” She won’t. “I need to sleep now, have a midterm tomorrow.

“Okay, good night and good luck tomorrow.” The door goes to close, but just before it does, it reopens. Charline sticks her head in again. “Hey, are you okay?”

Marianne looks at her. She’s sure that Charline already knows the answer, but doesn’t want to pry. It’s already late and Marianne has a midterm tomorrow. Charline gives her a flimsy half smile before closing the door. Marianne releases the breath she didn’t know she was holding.

* * *

The midterm was surprisingly easy. Marianne finished with 20 minutes to spare. She spends the 20 minutes anxiously fiddling with her pen thinking about the next class she has. She wonders if Héloïse will even come. She silent hopes she will. The minutes passed by slowly, each passing second just raises the anticipation of seeing the blonde. Finally, the class finishes, all the students flood out, and the other class starts coming in.

Marianne doesn’t bother to take out her laptop. She leans on the table in front of her, her fingers still twirling the pen around, her eyes glued to the door. The students file in one at a time, none of them with those enchanting blue eyes. She starts to lose hope when there’s only one-minute left before the class starts.

She sighs out of defeat, shoulders dropping. She fishes her laptop out of her bag, dropping it hard and without care of the small fake wooden table. She opens it to see a message from Megan, asking if she would be willing to stay a little past closing on Valentine’s day.

**Marianne:** How late are we talking?

**Megan:** Probably at most an hour after closing, so around 8pm.

This will be a good excuse not to go out with Charline.

**Marianne:** Fine, how much are they paying for this?

**Megan:** A decent amount, even put in a special request. All you have to do is sit there and make sure they don’t ruin anything.

Once Marianne finishes reading Megan’s last message, a body occupies the seat next to her. It’s Héloïse. She’s panting, her hair in disarray and overall looks frazzled. The professor is shooting a glare at Héloïse for the unneeded interruption, but the blonde elects to ignore them. Marianne watches Héloïse pull out her notebook and pen from her bag as she tries to slow her breathing.

**Marianne:** why are you late?

**Héloïse:** don’t worry babe, just left my house late

**Marianne:** don’t call me that

**Héloïse:** why not :( ur still my fake gf

**Marianne:** well yes, but we agreed to be friends remember?

**Héloïse:** u don’t call ur friends babe?

**Marianne:** not really

**Héloïse:** ur boring then

**Marianne:** maybe

**Héloïse:** how was ur middy?

**Marianne:** easy, finished with like 20 to spare

**Héloïse:** i’m dating a genius.

**Marianne:** shut up

But a smile appears on Marianne’s lips. Her heart flutters and her chest warms. They text for the remainder of class. As if they’ve been talking nonstop for the past four days. The sadness in Marianne vanishes. Blue turns to red with the flame that is lit. Marianne hasn’t heard or seen Héloïse since Monday, so she finds it a little weird that they’re acting this friendly. But Marianne isn’t going to complain. She misses talking to Héloïse a little too much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> don't ask me what is happening with my posting schedule, im just posting at the speed i write. hope u guys enjoyed! :)))))))


	11. Chapter 11

That entire week was extremely confusing for Marianne. Their conversation on Monday resulted in Héloïse vanishing off the face of the earth, once again and they talk today as if nothing has ever happened. This constant disappearing is growing tiresome, the absent void pulls Marianne further in each and every time. She doesn’t know how much farther she can sink before Héloïse can’t pull her out. She’s worried that it’s approaching fast. But now, it’s Friday evening after class and Héloïse is sitting beside her. Marianne doesn’t know how she ended up in Héloïse’s bed, blaming it on a moment of weakness.

“Do you bring all your friends to your bed as well?” Marianne asks. They’re not facing each other, instead looking straight ahead at the blank grey wall. Héloïse’s phone in between them, playing soft music.

“No, only my girlfriends,” Héloïse jokes. Marianne can’t help but feel butterflies.

“Héloïse,” She warns. Marianne watches Héloïse exhales a stream of smoke. The blonde hands over the lit joint to Marianne who takes her own puff.

“Sorry babe, my _fake_ girlfriends.”

Marianne rolls her eyes when Héloïse gives her the stupid signature smirk, her blue eyes light up. Marianne finds this girl insufferable sometimes, but she craves her presence. She tags another puff and passes back the joint. She can feel her body start to relax. There’s a comfortable silence between them, quiet music floating through the air.

“Can I ask you a question?” Héloïse asks after taking a large inhale. Marianne nods for her to go on. “Do you still paint?”

Marianne is slightly taken back by this question. “Nothing serious since that last portrait.” Héloïse passes back the weed.

“Why?”

Marianne tenses at the question. She has never told anyone this, not even Megan or Charline when they’ve asked. Héloïse sensed her hesitation, putting her tattooed hand onto Marianne’s thigh. “Um, I used to be really into painting portraits. Then when my parents died, I just stopped.” She finally said it out loud. A wave of relief washes over her, knocking the weight off her shoulders, but the burden still tight in her chest. Too many years of silence, she was worried she’ll never be able to let it out.

Her thumb rubs Marianne’s thigh, “Do you want to start again?”

“Yes, but I don’t know if I can and I don’t want to ask anyone to model for me if I can’t do it,” Marianne answers timidly. She watches the joint burn in between her fingers.

“I’ll model for you,” Héloïse says as she takes back the stick.

Marianne’s head snaps towards Héloïse. The blonde isn’t looking at her, instead straight ahead at the blank wall. She holds the joint to her lips and inhales with Marianne’s eyes on them. Marianne’s fully aware that Héloïse’s burning hand is still on her thigh. When she exhales, Héloïse turns to face Marianne. Her blue eyes are on Marianne’s lips. Marianne wants to kiss her so badly.

But she looks away at the blank wall. “Maybe after Milan.”

She sees Héloïse nods out of the side of her eyes. Héloïse moves to put out the joint in the ash tray on the bedside table. Marianne’s eyes attach back onto the blonde who turns towards Marianne. She’s sitting cross-legged now on the bed. Her tattooed hand finds its way back to Marianne’s thigh. Her heart starts beating faster for a different reason now. She feels a heat rise to her head.

“Tell me about your arm,” Marianne decides changing the topic is the smartest choice.

Héloïse’s attention breaks from Marianne’s. Her eyes on her own arm. She lifts her hand off of Marianne, but moves closer so Marianne can see the tattoos more clearly. Marianne starts to regret her choices because of their close proximity. She can smell Héloïse’s citrus shampoo and laundry detergent.

“The sleeve was done in memory of my father and sister. The rose on my hand is for my sister. Her favourite flower was a rose,” She moves her finger from the back of her hand to her forearm. There’s curved fern going down the outside, towards her wrist. A hawk that’s gliding down towards the rose fills most of her outer and inner forearm. The tattoo is immaculate.

“The fern symbolizes family in Japanese culture, the hawk for power. My dad used to always call me his little hawk.” Everything is so intricately shaded and blends well together. Héloïse rolls up the sleeve to her t-shirt to expose her upper arm.

On it is a man which his limbs shackled and held by chains. He’s struggling and to get out, clear distress on his face as a large vicious eagle is perched on his shoulder. He has a woman under him, trying to climb up, her hand on the bird, presumably to push it off. Everything is shaded so well. It’s not dark where the tattoo becomes illegible. Marianne’s in awe at the artwork.

“This is Prometheus from Greek mythology. Have you heard of him?” Marianne shakes her head. “He’s a titan, a race different from the gods. He basically created humans and defied the gods to protect them. He stole fire of the gods, isn’t that sick? Anyway, he got caught and for his punishment, Zeus bounded him to chains and sent an eagle every day to eat out his immortal liver. I just really liked it so I got it and yeah that’s it. My inner bicep is left blank for whenever my mom passes. I’ve never really told anyone about this before.”

Prometheus must’ve stolen fire and put it all into Héloïse. It would explain why Héloïse always has a fire in her eyes and her touch burns. It would also explain why Marianne always feels warm around her. Marianne smiles when Héloïse looks back up at her. They both just revealed very intimate secrets, opening the door and holding it open for the other to enter. Marianne feels vulnerable, but it’ll okay. It’s definitely the weed talking.

Her relaxed mind tells her to look at Héloïse’s lips, so she does. Her eyes glued to them as they form into the famous smirk. Marianne wonders if Héloïse’s lips will taste like ashes from the fire always burning inside of her. Héloïse leans in and Marianne doesn’t mind. Marianne can feel the flame from Héloïse’s parted lips.

They’re eyes are locked. “Can I kiss you?” Héloïse asks, her lips brush against Marianne’s.

Marianne lays her hand flat on Héloïse’s chest and pushes her back. A smirk now on Marianne’s face as Héloïse gives her a confused look. “We are friends, so no. Quit trying to kiss me.”

Marianne’s putting on a convincing front since in reality she feels an ache for Héloïse. She wants to feel her hands on her body, her lips on hers. She secretly wants Héloïse to pleasure her in any way Héloïse wants. Marianne wants to fall victim to the blonde. Maybe it’s not the weed this time.

Héloïse’s face flushes red. “Right. Friends.” Her blue eyes are slightly tinted with red from being high and there’s a goofy smile on her face. Héloïse knows something that Marianne doesn’t.

Red and blue has never looked more peaceful.

* * *

Marianne and Héloïse spent the weekend studying for their own midterm on Monday. Héloïse has been texting her periodically all weekend, only when they both take a break – which they schedule together. Héloïse went as far as buying Charline and Marianne dinner because Marianne texted her that she was hungry. It’s now Sunday night.

“You should marry her,” Charline says as she stuffs her face with Indian food.

“My heart is only reserved for you,” Marianne answers back with a smile.

The two continued to eat together in the living room, watching greys anatomy as a study break. Once everyone was done, Marianne returned to her room and checked her phone.

**Marianne:** I’m hungry :( 5:32 pm

**Héloïse:** check outside 5:50pm

**Marianne:** charline and I thank you for the food <3333 6:36pm

**Héloïse:** anything for you baby 6:36pm

Marianne feels her heart flutter and her chest warms. A smile forms on her face. Marianne hasn’t been able to get Friday’s events out of her mind. The lust was so evident in Héloïse’s eyes, it made Marianne weak thinking about it. She can still remember the way Héloïse smelt that day and the way her lips felt brushing against hers. It goes without saying that Marianne is extremely horny.

**Marianne:** back to studying, talk to you in an hr

**Héloïse:** see you

**Héloïse:** im done studying for the night

**Marianne:** it’s literally 8pm

**Héloïse:** so what idc anymore i think i know everything anyway

**Marianne:** brag :/

**Héloïse:** stop studying and hang out w me and sophie

Marianne reads the message and ponders. It’s not a bad idea. Marianne knows she won’t fail this midterm and she is getting sick of studying. Plus, it’d be nice to see Héloïse. Marianne sends a quick text to Charline asking if she’d be okay with them coming over to watch a movie and she agreed. A little too eagerly.

**Marianne:** come over we’ll watch a movie

Héloïse and Sophie arrive 20 minutes later. Marianne and Charline gives them both a hug once their coats her off. The room is dark, only illuminated by the light within the kitchen, but Marianne swears Héloïse still glowed. Marianne and Héloïse held each other for a moment longer than normal, earning them weird looks from their best friends. They shrug it off and ignore their looks. They all situate themselves on the couches in front of the TV. Charline took the single recliner and the other three on the couch, Héloïse in the middle of the other two.

Sophie and Charline are the ones to pick a movie, settling on romantic comedy. Charline goes to fetch blankets from their linen closet, coming back with three blankets in her arms. She throws one to Sophie, one to Marianne and Héloïse and keeps one for herself.

“Why do we have to share one?” Marianne whines while Héloïse drapes the blanket over Marianne. Héloïse doesn’t seem to mind too much.

“Because that’s all we had left.”

Marianne knew this was a lie, but kept quiet. Charline is notorious for having too many blankets. The movie starts, everyone goes silent and watches intently. Marianne regrets letting them choose this movie from how boring it was. Héloïse must’ve felt the same way because 10 minutes in, she leans back and sighs when the main male lead in the movie said something cringey.

But Marianne isn’t focused on the movie playing in front of her. Instead, Marianne is focused on Héloïse’s body being pressed against hers. She knows that under this blanket that Héloïse’s hands are in her lap. She has a desire to touch more of Héloïse, but she remains still. She’s distracted for the duration of the movie. All she can think about are the events of earlier today and she yearns for more.

Friends. That’s all they are. It’s not uncommon for friends to lust after each other, have a burning desire to feel their lips.

The movie ends and it’s still early in the night. Charline and Sophie enjoyed the movie so much that they insisted on watching the sequel. Marianne refuses to endure more of this pain and gets up. “I’m going to pass,” She says as Charline goes to put on the other movie. Marianne turns to Héloïse, holding her hand out, “Are you coming?”

Héloïse nods and shoots out of her seat. The blanket falls to the couch when Héloïse intertwine her fingers into Marianne. They mold together so well. Marianne and Héloïse enter Marianne’s room. It’s dark, only the moonlight from the night sky shining through the window light up the room. Marianne closes the door by pushing Héloïse against it, her hands remain on her chest. The sudden force closed the door loudly, but Marianne doesn’t care.

“Can I kiss you?” Marianne’s voice is ragged and impatient.

“Oh, look at the tables. They are turning,” Héloïse’s voice is light as it earns her a glare, but her eyes are glued to Marianne’s lips. Héloïse has her bottom lip trapped between her teeth as she nods.

Marianne’s lips instantly attach to Héloïse. They mold together. She hears the blonde lightly moan against her lips, one of Héloïse’s hands latches around Marianne’s neck and the other on the small of her back. Héloïse pulls her closer, their bodies touching and Marianne feels her skin grow hot.

Marianne’s hands move from her chest, trailing down her sides and grip her waist, pulling them even closer. They move frantically, trying to get as much contact as they can as if their time together is limited. Marianne’s heart rate is unhealthily accelerated, the beating rings in her ears.

They break apart, gasping for air and their hands are still on each other. Blue eyes are on hazel. There’s so much passion and lust present in Héloïse’s eyes.

Marianne gives Héloïse the bed eyes, which she reads almost instantly. Her hands move to Marianne’s waist and slowly pushes her backwards until her knees bend from hitting the bed. Marianne climbs into the bed and watches Héloïse crawl on top of her. Her legs are on either side of Marianne, looking down at Marianne. The moon shines onto her face, the blue glow in her eyes so noticeable.

Héloïse leans down, and connects their lips together again. It’s hard, needy and full of want. Marianne’s hands scramble all over Héloïse’s body, trying to memorize every curve. Héloïse’s right hand trails down the length of Marianne’s clothed body and slips under her waistband of Marianne’s shorts.

Her fingers trail over Marianne as she breaks the kiss. She watches pleasure fill Marianne’s eyes and a low moan escape her lips. Marianne feels herself grow agitated, squirming underneath Héloïse’s gaze. Even though Héloïse is on top of Marianne, she doesn’t feel vulnerable to powerless.

The gaze between then holds as Héloïse slowly inserts a finger. Marianne feels pleasure grow in her chest and a moan escapes. Warmth surrounds her and Héloïse is the one to set her on fire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> good news, finally finished the video game that was preventing me from doing daily chapters, so they should be back. hope you guys enjoyed :))


	12. Chapter 12

All of Marianne’s midterms are now completed and she’s stress-free until after the reading week. She’s sitting in the same foyer as she does every Monday. The weather outside is uncharacteristically cold even with the sun hanging high in the blue sky. Thankfully there’s no snow or Marianne would’ve just skipped her midterm. She’s waiting for Héloïse to finish her midterm and meet her here to discuss their week in Milan.

Her sketchpad is out and on the grey speckled table. Her head is down, sketching a rough portrait of Héloïse that she has committed to memory from Sunday night. After sex, they sat and talked together until Sophie and Charline’s movie was done. They agreed that this would be a one-time thing, a moment of weakness for them both and are staying strictly platonic. Marianne event went as far as taking out her sketchpad in front of Héloïse and asking her to model. And she did. Marianne has never seen anyone more beautiful.

She did many sketches that night, but not everything she wanted. Her pencil in her hand sketches out the memory of Héloïse’s side profile, then her lips until she’s interrupted but arms around her neck and a kiss on her cheek. There she is, Héloïse, with the smirk on her face and bright blue eyes. Héloïse releases her and takes a seat next to her, but not before moving the chair closer so that their knees touch.

“Hey,” Marianne greets Héloïse while trying to slyly cover up her sketchpad with her hands.

“Hey baby, what are you doing?” Marianne rolls her eyes. No matter how many times Marianne tells her not to call her baby, she still does. It’s not that Marianne doesn’t like it, it’s that she might be enjoying it too much.

“Nothing,” Marianne answers, trying to slide the book off the table and into her bag, but before she could, Héloïse grabs it from under her.

She watches Héloïse’s eyes scan the drawings, not wanting to draw more attention to herself, she sits quietly. She’s surprisingly not anxious that Héloïse is looking at her sketches as she usually does. Marianne feels a sense of comfort from Héloïse, it’s definitely enigmatic, but not fleeting.

“You’re so talented,” Héloïse whispers out after a bit. She says this with a small smile on her face, making Marianne blush.

“Thank you,” Marianne takes the book back and shoves it haphazardly into her bag. “So, what did you want to talk about?”

“How are you getting to Milan?” Marianne watches Héloïse’s hands play with each other on the table. Héloïse doesn’t ever seem to stop fidgeting.

“I have a ticket booked for Saturday morning.”

“You should cancel it and we could drive up there in the Urus,” Héloïse half asks and tells.

“Isn’t that a 9-hour drive?”

“Yeah, but won’t a road trip be fun? We can stop somewhere on the way there and sleep in a hotel. Or we could split up the driving however and get there in one session.”

“But what if it takes longer?” Marianne’s hesitant. She has always hated road trips due to how impatient she gets during them. Plus, her father was always a pain in the ass during them. They have always been an overall unenjoyable experience.

“Then you get to spend more time with me. It’s not like you have to be anywhere before Wednesday,” Héloïse reasons. Marianne’s only reason to be in Milan is to meet the art dealer and she scheduled the meeting on Wednesday.

“That sounds like hell,” Marianne jokes. Spending time with Héloïse alone would be nice, especially travelling in a Lamborghini would be luxurious. “I booked a hotel, are you going to be staying with your mom or me?”

Marianne doesn’t even know what made her ask Héloïse that question. It could easily be assumed that Héloïse would stay with her mom, but Marianne deep down wants Héloïse to stay with her. So, Marianne sits quietly. Anxiously looking around, hoping something else would take her focus and make her forget that she asked.

“If you want me to stay with you then I will.”

Marianne locks eyes with blue. She sees the light in them. Marianne relaxes. She knows that Héloïse wants to stay with her too. “I do.”

Their seminar passes by quickly. Mainly because neither of them wanted to stay as being in that seminar is actually torture. Especially being in such close proximity to Héloïse. So as soon as the TA ended her beginning lecture, Marianne and Héloïse left the classroom, hand in hand. It was exactly like in the movies. Just missing a lens flare and bad pop music.

* * *

The rest of the week was riveting to say the least. Marianne and Héloïse hung out every day leading up to Friday. Marianne has to admit that she really enjoys Héloïse’s company. All her negative emotions disappear when she’s around the blonde. All her fears and doubts seize to exist. But this is just what friends do.

On Wednesday, they sat around a square table in the library with Charline and Sophie. They’re all doing homework together and overall just using each other as distraction. It’s snowing outside, and with them being beside a large window, their table is cold, but Marianne doesn’t feel cold. Instead, Marianne feels her skin growing hot from being under Héloïse’s gaze. For some reason, Héloïse insists on looking at her with her sex eyes in public. So full of lust and it makes Marianne quiver under them.

“So, Marianne are you coming out with us for Valentine’s day?” Sophie asks.

Marianne looks up at the small brunette from her laptop. There’s a foreign look in them, as if Sophie knows something that Marianne doesn’t. “I can’t, Megan has me working until 8pm so she can go on a date with some girl. Are you all going?”

Marianne and Héloïse hasn’t spoken about Valentine’s day at all. Mostly because Marianne doesn’t want to hear about any other plans that Héloïse has with other girls. Partly because they just became friends and she doesn’t know if this topic was too personal.

“Yeah, we are and I’m hoping to get laid,” Charline answers, prompting Marianne to give her best friend a disgusted look.

“Me too, ugh it’s been so long,” Sophie says next.

Every one gave Sophie a weird look. “What happened to Josh?”

“I found someone else,” Sophie answers. Héloïse gives her a confused look as if it’s the first time she’s hearing about this, but Sophie ignores her.

* * *

It’s Valentine’s day and love is in the air. It’s suffocating for Marianne. It’s been a while since she has been in love and she misses it. Everyone today was insufferable. Couples walked around campus kissing every other second. Girls were carrying bouquet of red roses as they go from class to class. Everyone was whispering about their significant others.

Héloïse was weird during class, barely saying anything, which made Marianne feel uneasy. She wonders if it’s because the blonde has a date and didn’t want to tell her about it. Even after class, when Marianne would try to talk to her, she basically ignored the brunette and ran out of class. She also hasn’t answered any of Marianne’s texts about their trip to Milan.

Marianne ignores the sinking in her chest as she gets prepared for her night at the gallery. She settles on a black button-up, leaving some buttons at the top unbuttoned with tight grey slacks. She looks at herself in the mirror, finding herself hot enough to take some pictures. She curls her shoulder length brunette hair into waves before leaving the apartment.

Marianne steps into the gallery just after 5:30pm. The gallery only hosts individual groups on Valentine’s day for a more intimate setting. Each group only allowed to reserve for an hour. Though, since there are small amounts of people entering, the price of a reservation is quite high. Valentine’s day at the Merlant Gallery is definitely classist. Usually celebrities and wealthy people reserve on Valentine’s day but that’s the only way to pay the bills.

Megan says good bye to Marianne in the back-storage area, already dressed and ready to go. Marianne wishes her luck on her date before Megan enters into the darkening world. Marianne, now alone, finds herself in Megan’s chair at the desk. Her job is very boring and the hours drag on.

Her job on Valentine’s day is normally just to watch the guest, usually a pair as they look around at the artwork and gush to one another. Sometimes, at an additional cost, there would be request to personalize the gallery, following some rules of course. Luckily, she only has one request today and it’s for the last booking. Marianne’s surprised that someone was willing to pay the extra after-hour fees as well as the personalization fee. Maybe it’s a celebrity that Marianne likes.

The first couple leaves soon enough. It is clear that they have only recently fallen in love with each other. She bases this off the fact that they have huge smiles plastered on their faces, their inability to go more than 5 seconds without touching each other and their disgusting complements to each other. The man dared to compare his girlfriend to Hélène Delmaire’s Untitled 2 painting, saying that she is as beautiful as the lady painted. Marianne disagrees.

The next couple have definitely been together for a long time now. They’re an old happy couple, saying that they have saved up for a while to afford this reservation. It melts Marianne’s heart to hear that, but she can’t help feel sad that they had to save up. She believes that art should be easily accessible, but she must maintain the reputation of this gallery. The old couple spends their time wandering around looking at the art and discussing it one another. It was definitely wholesome and Marianne hopes that she’ll find someone like that.

The eventually leave and leave Marianne alone in the gallery. Marianne has 10 minutes before the next group is allowed to show up, hopefully they don’t and Marianne can go home early. She has one request from them and it’s to put a singular chair in the middle. A weird request, but not one of the weirdest. She brings a chair from the back storage, a simple brown wooden chair that she sits on. It should be more than sufficient.

7 minutes - she gets a text from Charline.

 **Charline:** you could still come out with us after I’ll wait for you

 **Marianne:** I can’t Charlie. By the time we get out there, we’ll never get in plus I leave for Milan early tomorrow

 **Charline** : I can’t believe you’re going to Milan with Héloïse

 **Marianne:** I wish it were u. are you with Héloïse and Sophie?

 **Charline:** Sophie yes, Héloïse no. I asked Sophie where she was and she wouldn’t tell me :/

 **Marianne:** that’s weird she hasn’t talked or texted me at all today. maybe shes busy w something or someone else

 **Charline:** There’s no way she’d be with someone else. She likes YOU.

_I already know that._

There’s a door bell that disrupts the peace and quiet. One more hour. Marianne gets out of the large office chair and walks towards the front doors. Her heels clicking against the white granite flooring. It’s extremely dark outside, she’s unable to see much outside, but there’s only one person waiting, which is odd. They’re turned around with a big puffy black jacket with the hood up, a black backpack on and they’re looking away from the gallery doors onto the street. It’s Valentine’s day. No one would book after-hours and show up alone. Fear rushes over Marianne, what if she’s getting robbed?

They turn around when Marianne decides what to do, whether to call someone or not. Blue eyes trap her under a spell and that smirk on her lips that form when she sees Marianne. Héloïse. Marianne fumbles with the lock and holds open the glass door for Héloïse to enter.

“What are you doing here?” Marianne asks as she locks the door.

She turns to see Héloïse taking off her backpack. “I made reservations.”

“What?” Marianne helps Héloïse by holding the bag as she takes off her jacket.

She’s wearing a tight black turtleneck with black slacks and a black belt. All black outfit that looks ridiculously hot. “I couldn’t leave my girlfriend to spend Valentine’s day alone, could I?”

Marianne can’t help but smile. The warm feeling in her chest is back and the butterflies have hatched. It’s overwhelming the amount of emotions she feels right now. Happy, excited, and loved. _Loved._

They trade items and Marianne goes to hang Héloïse’s jacket up. When she returns her attention to the blonde, there’s a speaker sitting on the chair with some chocolate covered strawberries. Marianne’s heart melts further. “What is all this?”

“I’m going to play music and we’re going to talk about art,” Héloïse extends her hand back. Marianne intertwines their hands together. She loves the way they fit together.

They walk around the gallery, hand in hand and talk about each piece. Marianne explains the artist, their motivation behind each work and whether she likes them or not. Of course, she says that she likes them all because she hand chose the art that goes in there. Héloïse intently listened the entire time. Marianne could tell it was genuine interest and she found it endearing every time Héloïse asked her question.

The music mostly drifted off into the background, but Marianne would tune it in once in a while. She would hear the violins mix with the pianos in a melodic rhythm. The music always started off soft, then build to an enchanting sound. Marianne would compare it to the progression of falling in love, slowly building and eventually full and lively. For an English major, Héloïse does know a lot about music.

“This is a different one. The artist is unknown unfortunately since the autograph has deteriorated over time, but the family who sold it to me said it’s one of their relatives. I don’t think there’s a motivation behind this painting, just a simple portrait but there’s so many layers in it that caught my eyes,” Marianne explains as they look at the painting in front.

A simple portrait of a woman with a child next to her. She’s seated, with a book in hand and a small 28 in the corner. It’s not a usual piece that Marianne would be interested it, but something about it drew her eye. Maybe it’s the beauty of the model herself, or the hidden note left with the page number being painted, or the gaze that the woman displays is timeless.

“What caught your eye?” Héloïse asks. Marianne compares her to this portrait.

“Her gaze is one. It’s so powerful. I felt it when I first looked at it. Kind of like when you look at me,” Héloïse squeezes her hand, a small smile on her lips appear. “And the figure in the book stuck out. It was definitely placed there purposefully and I wish I knew why.”

“Perhaps it was for someone to see? Like a memory or something?” Héloïse asks, their eyes locked.

Marianne ponders Héloïse’s ideas. It was very likely and she can’t think of another reason. Marianne’s eyes leave Héloïse and onto the painting and stares at the painting. The gaze, the 28. Everything in this painting sends a message.

After they made their way around each and every painting, finding some time in between to eat the strawberries, it was coming time to close the gallery. Héloïse helps Marianne clean up despite Marianne telling her not to. They work in silence, listening to the playlist that Héloïse made.

_I’ll keep you safe in these arms of mine._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope u guys enjoyed this lil cute chapter :) the song playing while they look at art is hearing by sleeping at last and the final song at the end is I'll keep you safe by sagun if anyone was wondering.


	13. Chapter 13

After the gallery was locked up, Héloïse and Marianne left out the back. Héloïse has told her that she got an Uber to the gallery and would get one back home, but Marianne insisted on driving her. Héloïse waits for Marianne to lock the back door as the sky starts to snow. It’s dark and strangely quiet out. The white particles floating down is light and majestic, like fairies that surround them.

Marianne turns to Héloïse, who stands out looking into the dark abyss. It reminds her of the painting that Héloïse gave her. “Want to come back to mine? We can go to yours tomorrow to pick up your stuff and the car,” Marianne asks as she molds her hand into Héloïse.

Héloïse looks at her with a shocked expression. Marianne has yet to initiate anything intimate up until now. Héloïse agrees with an eager nod and a goofy smile. They enter into Marianne’s silver Mercedes-Benz C-class. Marianne starts the car and the music coming from the radio flows through the car.

“I don’t understand how you see with this music,” Héloïse says as she slightly unzips her jacket. “Especially in the dark.”

“Multitasking. We better be playing music on the drive to Milan or I’ll be bored out of my mind.”

“Once we’re on the freeway. I can’t concentrate in the city.”

Marianne looks at Héloïse with feigned surprise, “Are you legally allowed to drive?” This earns her a light punch in the arm. “Ow, Héloïse!” Héloïse starts laughing.

* * *

The next morning, they wake up to loud banging coming from the kitchen. The sun is out, thankfully it has stopped snowing. The two exit the bed slowly, wiping the sleep out of their eyes and trudge to the kitchen to find the accomplice making the noise. “Sophie?” Héloïse’s raspy morning voice asks. Marianne loves the sound of it.

“Héloïse! Hi, I wasn’t expecting you here,” Sophie looks as if the two has caught her red handed. Marianne and Héloïse give one another a confused look, prompting Sophie to quickly explain herself, “I was just trying to find your cereal. Charline was asking for me to bring the box into her room.”

“Why are you _only_ wearing a t-shirt?” Héloïse asks. Marianne’s eyes widen at the realization. It’s evident that she’s wearing nothing underneath.

“I- uh,” Sophie fumbles to find an explanation.

The bedroom door opens behind them and out comes Charline looking like she has just woken up. “Why are you guys so loud?” Her morning voice is agitated.

Marianne turns to her best friend to find her also in only a t-shirt. Héloïse gives Marianne a suspicious look. The room is awkward, no one knowing what to say. Silence hangs, not a single sound floats in the air. Marianne can feel Sophie fidget in her spot as Héloïse flips her head back and forth between Charline and Sophie.

After Charline rubs some of the sleep out of her eyes, she looks between Héloïse and Marianne, who are barely dressed themselves. Héloïse only in her underwear and Marianne clearly naked under her t-shirt. “Héloïse?”

Silence again.

Marianne speaks up first, “Are you two-?”

“Are you?” Charline questions back.

The four looks at each other back and forth. Héloïse speaks this time, “Marianne and I are just friends.” Charline and Sophie both give them an unconvincing look. “What? We are!”

“Whatever you say,” Charline grumbles. She pushes past the two and enter the kitchen with Sophie. Charline ignores the very nervous Sophie and the two other confused women as she digs through their cupboards looking for her cereal.

“Sophie?” Héloïse’s voice is threatening with an angry undertone. Sophie quivers at the intensity of it. Marianne has not seen this side of Héloïse. She’s quick to anger. Sophie refuses to make eye contact with Héloïse, so she instead looks for help from Marianne.

Marianne responds her to plea for help by turning her attention to Héloïse. She puts a hand on the blonde’s shoulder and whispers, “Stop, be nice.” Héloïse listens and relaxes. She offers Sophie a soft smile, which is returned.

Charline remerges and stands beside Sophie with a cereal box in hand. Her face is blank with droopy eyes and slow chews. “So, what’s going on with you two?”

“Nothing,” Marianne answers truthfully.

“But you spent Valentine’s day together and slept in the same bed?” Charline questions.

“Yes, nothing happened. Just friends,” Marianne repeats. “What about you two?”

“We are also… just friends... with benefits,” Charline speaks slowly, slurring a little. She must still be drunk.

Héloïse and Marianne’s mouths drop open, eyes wide. A different silence fills the air. Sophie seems as shocked that Charline told them. All these years of Charline telling her that she’s straight and this happens. All it took was a small loving brunette for Charline to switch teams. Héloïse doesn’t seem as surprise. Marianne does remember someone telling her that Sophie was pansexual, but she doesn’t remember who.

An alarm starts to blare, disrupting the silence. The alarm for Marianne and Héloïse to get ready and leave as soon as possible if they want any chance of making it to Milan today. “We have to start getting ready,” Marianne breaks the news.

Charline lights up in glee, knowing that she wouldn’t have to talk about this while hungover. She grabs Sophie’s hand and retreats to her room, the pair pushing past Marianne and Héloïse. Héloïse oddly stiff. The floor creaks underneath their steps. Marianne and Héloïse goes silently back to Marianne’s room and closes the door behind them.

“What the fuck was that,” Héloïse whispers, pacing around.

“I don’t know, but we’ll figure this out later. Get into the shower,” Marianne softly demands. Héloïse complies by grabbing the towel from Marianne’s hand.

“Come with me,” Héloïse says and Marianne listens.

* * *

“Are you sure we’re going the right way?” Héloïse asks, leaning forward over the steering wheel and dramatically squinting her eyes.

“Yes Héloïse. The GPS says so,” Marianne reassures.

The entire morning has been frantic for the two. Their thoughts race along with their feet as they hastily get ready around each other. Getting side-tracked in the shower was not a part of the plan. Marianne let Héloïse borrow a pair of sweatpants and a sweater before they left the house to Héloïse’s. The two said good bye to their best friends behind a closed door.

It took them 2 two hours between waking up and getting onto the freeway, 30 minutes being unaccounted for. The weather is especially bad today, a snowstorm decided to surprise everyone. The traffic has also bled into their time. Now, the earliest that they will arrive in Milan is 10pm and that’s with minimal breaks. They’re now going as fast as Héloïse considers safe in these slick conditions, which is not fast at all. At this rate they’ll never make it to Milan.

Marianna fiddles with the central control screen in the Urus, trying to connect her phone to the Bluetooth. “What are you doing?”

“You told me I could play music when we got on the freeway,” Marianne answers.

“We’ll crash if you do. I can’t see anything already with this snow,” Héloïse huffs. Her knuckles gripping the wheel. Marianne plays it anyway, then putting her hand on Héloïse’s thigh to calm her.

“Why are you so tense?”

Héloïse slightly relaxes under Marianne’s touch. Her knuckles release a little, going red again. “It’s just weird that Sophie didn’t tell me about Charline.”

“We have been hanging out a lot and you’ve been busy studying for your midterm otherwise. I’m sure she would’ve told you sooner or later. I didn’t even know Charline was interested in girls.”

“Does it bother you?”

Marianne takes a second to think about Héloïse’s question. “Yes and no. No because I remember how scared I was coming to terms with my sexuality and coming out to people I’m close with. Yes, because I wish she would’ve felt okay coming to me to talk about it.” Héloïse nods agreeing with Marianne.

1-hour passes. Their hands are intertwined at the centre console. It has stopped snowing, but the sky still grey and bleak. It’s warm in the car and the air is filled with music that Marianne chooses. Marianne has a permanent smile on her face as the trees and wide-open fields fly past. They don’t talk. Just enjoying the peace and quiet of a comfortable environment. She feels safe in Héloïse’s presence.

2-hours pass and they stop for food. They find themselves a small diner located in an equally as small town somewhere in France. They each order a coffee with their lunch. It feels so normal, as if they’ve been sitting across from one another for years now. Marianne’s butterflies are let free every single time Héloïse gives her a smile, which is every single time blue eyes lock onto hazel. They order a cake to go and Marianne feeds Héloïse forkfuls of cake.

3-hours pass. Conversation is non-stop between them. They talk about everything, never seeming to run out of topics. They talk about their futures and Héloïse wants to become a writer. About their families. Héloïse comes from fortune because before her grandfather’s novel became very popular and their family has been capitalizing off the royalties ever since. Marianne has never heard of the novel, but Héloïse says it’s more popular in Italy. Marianne loves to hear Héloïse talk.

4-hours pass. They’re at a gas station for the third time. Marianne’s inside paying for the gas and buying some snacks. When she comes out, her arms full of food, she can’t help but feel a sense of warmth looking at the scene in front of her. What can be more angelic than Héloïse wearing Marianne’s clothes, shivering because she insisted on not wearing a jacket as she jumps gas? Marianne would argue nothing, especially when Héloïse’s lips turn upright when she sees the brunette.

5-hours on the road and Héloïse starts to get tired of driving. Marianne has been asleep for the past hour, leaving Héloïse alone in the quiet. From time to time, Marianne would wake up, smile at Héloïse while changing her position and doze off again.

“Marianne,” Héloïse calls out. Marianne slightly stirs but falls back asleep. Héloïse calls her name once more, putting her hand onto Marianne’s thigh.

Hazel eyes start to flutter open. The warm sensation on her thigh is where her eyes travel first, then following the arm to the body beside her. Her eyes meet bright blue before they bring their attention back onto the road. Marianne scans the environment around her. It has completely changed since she has gone to sleep. Outside the car is completely dark. Slightly Ominous.

“Are you hungry?” Héloïse asks, her hand rubs Marianne’s thigh lightly.

“Yeah,” Marianne responds with a hoarse voice. Marianne stops Héloïse’s hand and holds it in hers. It’s a small intimate gesture, but still manages to bring a small smile to Héloïse’s face.

Minutes later, the Urus is parked outside of a small diner. It’s packed inside, filled by many couples but even more families. But to Marianne, it feels like it’s only them in the diner. The voices muffle into the background and everything around them seizes to exist. Their bubble is only ever popped when the waitress comes to take their order.

“You’re driving the rest of the way,” Héloïse says with her face held up with her hand. Her eyes visibly droopy. Marianne smiles at how cute a tired Héloïse looks.

“As long as you keep me company.”

Héloïse’s eyes travel to hers. Every time blue eyes meet hazel; Marianne sinks more into the ocean within them. Warm dark water engulfs her more and more. Drowning has never felt so good before.

* * *

“Héloïse, it’s literally on the GPS, just tell me where to turn,” Marianne’s voice fills the car alongside the music.

Héloïse has Marianne’s phone in her hands held close to her face, yet is still unable to tell Marianne where the next turn is. Marianne has never met someone so incapable of telling directions before. Héloïse refuses to let Marianne look at the phone while being the wheel, something about how it’s unsafe, even for a quick glance.

“It’s this one,” Héloïse says in a frantic voice, her hand extends to the right at the exit that is only a few hundred metres away.

Marianne quickly merges lanes as safely as she can. The darkness and snow limit her visibly greatly, but she manages to successfully get off the ramp. The car she cut off laid the horn on her as she does. It’s dead silent in the car besides the music that blares through the speaker as they approach a red light. Marianne has her eyes wide, her knuckles tight to the very expensive steering wheel.

“You’re the worst navigator ever,” Marianne huffs her anxiety out. 

They make it into their hotel room in one piece. Both of them are shocked about how extravagant the room is. The space is huge with a king size bed in the middle and dark wooden furniture everywhere. There’s even a balcony looking down at the city of Milan, which Marianne is attracted to first.

Her eyes try to focus out the reflection and marvel at the city down below. Héloïse approaches her from behind, wrapping her arms around Marianne’s waist and rests her head on her shoulder. The melt into each other, molding into one. They’re both exhausted from a day of travelling, but Marianne has never felt more alive in her life. That the entire day, Marianne felt no fear, sadness or guilt.

She felt secure. Only comfort, love and happiness. All because of Héloïse.

* * *

Blackness. There is no light, no sound. Nothing. Her screams cannot be heard as a clear picture form before her. Pulling closer to her field of view from a third person’s perspective. Red and blue lights flash. Red, Héloïse’s fire. Blue, her eyes. Instead of calming her, fear rushes through her body. Fight or flight.

Marianne watches herself stand there, frozen with her phone in hand as lights flash from outside their house. There’s inaudible yelling coming from her parents. Her mother with a face full of fear, her father anger. She never knows what they’re fighting about. It’s always something new. Money, the gallery, Marianne. The list is endless, but this time, it’s especially bad.

Anger has a funny way of clouding judgement. So much so that her father has loaded gun in his hand. Though, that doesn’t seem to stop her mother from screaming in his face. She watches herself cry, but she can feel the tears evaporate when they touch her hot skin. She sees their front door shake. Everything still inaudible, only hearing the ringing sound in her ears.

It happens in slow motion, but so fast. Somehow, in a fit of her parents’ screaming match, they both fail to hear screaming. Or the door banging. They only come back to reality with the heavy door swings open and crashes into the wall. Armed police officers storm into her house with raised weapons. Fight or flight and her father chose fight. He pulls the trigger at the target in front of him.

Marianne watches her mother’s lifeless body fall to the floor. Her mouth opens to scream but nothing comes out. Then a flurry of bullets and other body drops to the floor. Her lungs empty and are unable to pick up air again.

“Marianne!” She hears a voice yelling her name from somewhere unknown. It’s raspy and angelic. Her field of view is going blurry. Another call out for her name, but her eyes can’t tear away. She watches her younger self fall to the ground in tears, but before her knees hit the ground, her eyes shoot open and the white unfamiliar ceiling comes into view.

Her breath is ragged and heavy. She’s unable to move. Her chest feels as if it’s weighed down by bricks and her limbs are paralyzed. Her skin is covered by a layer of cold sweat. Her vision starts to focus and she sees red and blue. This time, it’s Héloïse’s beautiful blue eyes. Her skin red from the lights coming from the window and it doesn’t scare her.

She tries to control her breathing. The hollow auditorium in her chest echoes with fast heartbeats. The broken breathing quickly turns into sobs. Tears escape from her eyes, down her face like waterfalls. The memories flash repeatedly, like each gun shot that was fired. Héloïse’s face fades behind the blanket of tears. She was sure she was better. That this time, the memories will be locked away in the deepest parts of her, never to be touch by light again.

Héloïse disappears from her vision, her muffled ears hear shuffling beside her. A soft warm hand is placed on her ice-cold skin and slowly turns her frozen head. Héloïse appears again. She feels her thumb brush the tears from her eyes then remain on her face. Héloïse brings her lips to Marianne’s forehead, placing a delicate kiss. It feels like the morning after a rainstorm. Revitalizing.

They lie like this for a while. Gazing into each other’s eyes. Héloïse’s hand on her face. Héloïse’s eyes search for something Marianne’s but she doesn’t know what. Marianne stares back into calm rippling waves. Marianne has never felt this emotion coursing through her. It feels liberating. So freeing. As if she’s ripping free of the confining shell that is her body.

“Your gaze is so distant,” Héloïse says quietly. Her voice so muted that it’s barely heard. Their eyes still together. “I look into your eyes and see a whole universe happening inside of you. I feel as though I’m looking at a sun. It warms my entire body and never blinds me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi, i just want to start of by saying i am sorry. i have not been in the best mental state lately and trying to articulate emotions is difficult rn. i honestly have no idea what direction i want this to go in either so it's taking more time to write than normal. i hope you guys enjoyed this chapter though. i don't know when the next chapter will be up, but hopefully soon. please dont hate me, i promise i will finish this story, just might take a little time. :)


	14. Chapter 14

It’s a mild winter day in Milan. The snow has finally stopped and allowed the world around them to experience the nurturing sunlight. Marianne’s anxiously fiddling with her jacket zipper between her fingers with Héloïse driving beside her. They haven’t spoken much today. Silent waking up and getting ready around each other. Marianne follows Héloïse’s every move, not knowing a single plan. Both still thinking about the events of last night.

“You move as if you’re somehow above us. With such power and simplicity.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anything more than you.”

“I’m falling in love with you.”

The words escaped Héloïse’s lips so effortlessly. Something that would’ve taken Marianne repeated repetitions in her head. She didn’t answer. She didn’t know what to say, her voice lost in the dark tunnel of her throat. They stared at each other until their eyes can no longer stay open.

It’s not necessarily awkward in the car, but the air is stagnant. Marianne can tell Héloïse is just as nervous as her by the way her finger repeatedly tapping the steering wheel. Héloïse’s waiting for her to say something, anything. Marianne’s vision is so focused on the red interior of the Urus to fully embrace the beauty of Milan, but she doesn’t feel like she’s missing anything.

Marianne has never considered herself cowardly, but now she feels too spineless to say anything back. Love. It was rarely ever given to her. Something that she always gave so freely. Marianne always loved so openly, but with Héloïse it’s different. She tries to convince herself that she doesn’t love Héloïse, but always falls short due to the aching in her chest. The feeling is so obscure that it makes Marianne nauseous every time she thinks about it. She feels it teasing her. She wants to reach out and fully embrace it but she fears that it’ll tear away from her grasp.

Eventually, Héloïse parks the car in the middle of an empty parking lot surrounded by century old trees covered by snow. Without any words spoken, Héloïse exits the car, her feet crunching on the snow beneath as she does. Marianne follows suite, standing by her closed door as Héloïse rounds the car. Her face is blank when she walks past Marianne, stopping a small distance away and extending her hand backwards.

Marianne captures her fingers in between hers and they walk in unison on the partly snow-covered dirt path. The only sounds present are their breathing and the feet hitting the ground. Their breath blowing hazy clouds as they step. Marianne feels each step becoming more and more unbearable with the silence between them. She feels the need to do something to change this.

So, she stops. Dead in her tracks, her hand breaking away from the unsuspecting Héloïse. The blonde turns around with a confused expression on her face. One hand in her jacket pocket and another left empty, hanging by her side. The long felt black jacket wraps her, her lush hair let down and carelessly wavy around her shoulders. Marianne takes in all of her beauty.

“Do you ever get so sad that you feel your heart caving in?” Marianne asks. The courageousness to speak coming out of nowhere.

Héloïse’s confusion grows, but she still ponders the question. “Yes.”

“I felt that way all the time. I had no control of myself, I felt like a walking corpse,” Marianne’s voice becoming broken. “I couldn’t stand living so I tried to paint my own portrait in hopes of bringing myself back to reality. When I was finished, I couldn’t bear looking at myself in the eyes. So, I smudged it.”

Marianne pauses to gain composure. Her eyes closed, not being able to withstand Héloïse’s gaze. She takes deep breaths to stop the tears from arising and keeping the anxiety down. She hears footsteps near her, but she puts up her hands to stop them.

Her eyes reopen, locking onto blue. “But ever since I met you, I swear it’s been like a breath of fresh air. You set fire to everything. My soul, my heart, my body. It’s so warm and I am so scared,” the last words fade into the air. Now she holds her breath.

Those blue eyes search hers all over again. Her feet move towards Marianne, each step thickens the air further. Héloïse’s arms wrap around her neck. Her sense of smell and touch fully engulfed. Marianne melts in Héloïse’s arms. Her lungs fill with crisp air. She digs her head into the blonde’s neck and Héloïse does the same. They stand there, in the middle of nowhere, just holding each other.

Maybe it’ll be all okay. Maybe Héloïse will be the one to show her what love truly is. Maybe everything that has happened meant to, just for her to meet Héloïse in a stupid seminar. Somehow, one of the most obnoxious people Marianne has ever met turned into someone so caring and genuine. It just all seems to be too perfect to be true.

* * *

Their walk doesn’t last long. After Marianne admitted her feelings, they both walked very fast to the car and drove directly back to their hotel room. Their clothes are scattered all over the floor from the door leading to the bed. It’s quiet in their room, nothing but the white noise of the busy streets below. It’s peaceful, especially for Marianne, who is wrapped around Héloïse’s arms, her head on the blonde’s chest.

Marianne’s eyes are closed, listening to the rhymical heartbeat of Héloïse. The hollow auditorium of Marianne’s own chest mimics the beat. It feels so serene. Héloïse’s hand strokes her messy strands in lazy patterns making Marianne’s foggy mind more tired. Her mind is so tired from the early morning and horrifying nightmare.

“Would you be willing to meet my mom tomorrow?” Héloïse’s chest vibrates as she speaks.

A wave of anxiety washes over Marianne. Meeting parents has to be one of the biggest fears, always worrying that she won’t be liked. She knows that she has to do this, it’s the whole point of fake dating Héloïse in the first place. “Yeah, I am your _fake_ girlfriend,” Marianne whispers, her finger drawing small circles on Héloïse’s breast.

She feels the blonde tense from under her, causing her to adjust her head to look at Héloïse. She meets blue eyes and they have an unreadable expression in them. “Maybe… you should just be my real girlfriend?” Héloïse asks hesitantly as if not to scare Marianne away with her words.

Marianne freezes, her finger stops dead in their tracks. Her eyes drop Héloïse’s and looks off at the blank wall in front of her. Fear course through her. Every bad memory of her past relationships resurfaces and brings all their negative emotions with it. She goes cold, only pulled away by the warmth of Héloïse hand on her shoulder. She relaxes as the hand squeezes her skin, pushing down the gloomy thoughts away.

The warmth burns away the thoughts of old memories and emotions, like a moth to a flame. Marianne has an undeniable attraction to Héloïse. As if Héloïse is a light that has a gravitational pull on Marianne. The fire that Héloïse starts within Marianne is her salvation. She never feels afraid with Héloïse around. Fire cannot feel afraid.

Marianne finds the courage to look up to Héloïse, her hazel eyes meet fiery blue ones. She’s taken back by the amount of passion and desire that are present. She’s drawn back to reality, fully aware that her naked body is pressed against Héloïse’s. It would be foolish not to date someone as perfect as Héloïse. Someone that possess so much strength, operates with such clarity and care. Nothing like the person Marianne first met.

Scared of her own capability to speak, she only gives a small nod. Marianne watches Héloïse’s features brighten instantly. Happiness radiates from Héloïse. Marianne can feel it absorb into her skin and coursing through her veins. She has never seen such a genuine smile plastered on Héloïse’s face before, her teeth showing and all. She feels herself further press into Héloïse as strong arms wrapped around her pulls her closer.

Marianne feels so safe in her arms. Their souls molding together, like there was a piece missing within Marianne’s soul and Héloïse fits inside of it perfectly. The storm within her mind always calms with Héloïse. It’s peaceful. Something that Marianne rarely experiences.

They spend the next hours together in bed, ignoring the outside world. They sleep together and talk about the universe. The world around them as stopped, nothing else exists besides their love. Only once the sun has gone to sleep and the streets quiet, when the two of them snap out of their love bubble due to hungry stomachs.

They sluggishly leave their bed and put on clothes even slower. Their bodies are tired from being in bed all day. They leave the warm hotel lobby and into the brisk cold night. The streets are busy with cars and tourists walking aimlessly around. Marianne finds herself walking closely beside Héloïse with her arms wrapped around Héloïse’s, trying to leech as much warmth as she can from the blonde.

They find themselves a small Italian restaurant, sat tucked away in a dark alleyway. It’s oddly busy for being in such a hidden location. They take a seat at a small table in the back of the restaurant on hard wooden chairs. The restaurant is perfectly dimmed, the none of the black walls have any windows and plastered with old memorabilia. It’s a cute little place, but Marianne’s eyes are glued on the beautiful woman in front of her.

Héloïse effortlessly looks hot all the time, which constantly makes life harder for Marianne. Her white t-shirt wraps her arms so well and Marianne knows she’s braless underneath. Those enchanting blue eyes always take her breath away. The way her messy blonde hair falls reminds her of golden rays. That stupid smirk makes her knees turn weak when it’s directed at her. The way her lips move when she speaks. Héloïse is a masterpiece that Marianne can never take her eyes off of.

“Why are you staring at me like that?” Héloïse asks as her brows furrow. Her eyes lift from the menu and onto Marianne.

Marianne gives her a shrug, “I can’t stare at my girlfriend?”

A sideway smile appears on Héloïse’s lips. Marianne feels her legs turn liquid. Her heart picks up and the butterflies are back in her stomach. Saying girlfriend feels too surreal for Marianne, but it leaves her lips so naturally. “I like it when you say that.”

Marianne gives a smile of her own, “I like saying it.”

The waitress interrupts their conversation and takes their order. Marianne panics, she hasn’t even opened her menu as she was too busy admiring her girlfriend. Héloïse orders her dinner, oblivious to the fact that Marianne’s menu still sits on closed on the small table. When the attention turns to her, Marianne stutters out that she’ll have whatever Héloïse is having.

As the waitress walks away, Héloïse starts to laugh. “Didn’t get a chance to look at the menu?”

Marianne feels her cheek grow red as embarrassment rises within her. She shakes her head in response, afraid that her voice will betray her. Her vulnerable state makes her too timid to rebuttal. Héloïse extends her arm out onto the table, her hand open, asking for Marianne’s. Marianne sheepishly places her hand on top of Héloïse. It’s instantly caressed.

They both look at each other and smile. Still, something deep down is telling Marianne to run, but she ignores it. She blames the trauma from seeing her parents’ relationships. All the arguing, the screaming, and the fighting. All she can hope is that her relationship with Héloïse doesn’t become what she fears most. For now, she pushes the thought away and decides to live in the present. Staring right into blue eyes and forgetting out to breathe.

They finish dinner and Marianne insisted on paying, but somehow Héloïse managed to pay before she could. They’re walking back to their hotel, hand in hand with full stomachs and big smiles. Marianne sticks close to Héloïse unconsciously bumping into her every few steps, but Héloïse doesn’t seem to mind.

“I’m going to call Sophie when we get back,” Héloïse says, trying to be louder than the car horns, but failing miserably. Marianne finds it endearing how annoyed Héloïse gets when she’s interrupted by honking. Marianne agrees that she should also call Charline to talk about yesterday. They walk silently the rest of the way, heads full of thought.

When they made it back to their hotel room, Héloïse excuses herself out to the balcony wrapped with a small blanket. Marianne watches her lean over the railing with a cigarette between her fingers and her phone in hand. Smoking is something very uncharacteristic for Héloïse. She can tell that Héloïse is visibly upset by the way her brows furrow and tense posture, but Marianne finds Héloïse breathtaking anyway.

Marianne takes this time to call Charline herself. She’s sat up on the bed, leaning against the large wooden headboard. Their conversation was light despite the serious topic. Charline apologized for not telling Marianne about Sophie, but she didn’t know herself what it was and didn’t want to jump to conclusions. Charline also did mention that they weren’t necessarily trying to hide it, saying that Marianne was just too distracted by Héloïse to notice.

This comment made Marianne blush. Marianne recalls the first movie night when Josh, Sophie and Héloïse slept over. Charline was a little too relaxed with the idea of sharing a bed with Sophie that night. The endless amount of time Charline and Sophie spend together on campus. Marianne starts to realize how often Sophie managed to come up in their conversation, but she never thought much of it. The second movie night should’ve been a dead giveaway. Maybe Charline was right, Marianne was too focused on Héloïse to even notice.

Charline continues on and admits to Marianne that she may have feelings for Sophie. Marianne finds this shocking because Charline has never felt any romantic for other women before. Marianne tells her to really think about it and to have a conversation with Sophie to make sure they’re both on the same page, which Charline agreed would be the best idea. They ended their conversation soon after due to Héloïse returning from the balcony.

Marianne tosses her phone onto the side table as Héloïse’s cold body climbs into bed. Héloïse cuddles into Marianne’s side, her arm wrapped around Marianne’s waist and her body pressed close to bare legs. Marianne shivers from the cold touch of Héloïse. It’s a foreign feeling. She’s now the source of Héloïse’s warmth. She puts her head onto Marianne’s lap. The air is quiet, peaceful, as if nothing in the world will ever disturb them.

Marianne starts to play with blonde locks, running her fingers through Héloïse’s hair. Héloïse visibly relaxes with each stroke, her cool body starting to regain heat. They sit like this for a while, just embracing each other’s presence. Marianne hopes this feeling won’t be fleeting. She hopes that she can forever be the fire that Héloïse needs.

As Héloïse is hers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you guys enjoyed! let me know what you guys think. if you guys have any questions you can find me on tumblr at charlinelabonte.tumblr.com :) I won't really update when i'm writing on it, it's more to answer your questions!! i hope to post soon.


	15. Chapter 15

Monday morning, Marianne and Héloïse find themselves in the Urus once again. The tightness in Marianne’s chest grows each minute that passes. The sun beaming through the tinted window is harsh on Marianne’s eyes. Inside the car is quiet, only sounds from the outside can be heard. Tires on wet concrete, car engines purring and obnoxious horns disturb the peace. Marianne’s hands are fiddling with the bottom hem of her jacket. Héloïse is talking to her, but she hears nothing but muffled ringing. She can’t focus on anything but the many thoughts running through her head.

Will she hug Héloïse’s mom upon arrival or will they just formally shake hands? She wonders if she’ll be bombarded by questions about her life, or even worse about Héloïse. What if Héloïse’s mom asks about her parents? Marianne’s heart picks up, her skin grows cold and a layer of sweat starts to cover her skin. What if she asks her what Héloïse’s favourite colour is? Trivial stuff that she doesn’t know? Her breathing starts to quicken.

Héloïse must’ve sensed the shift in Marianne’s behaviour because her hand leaves the steering wheel and tenderly caresses Marianne’s knee. Marianne slides her hand into the blonde’s and holds it tightly, hoping Héloïse wouldn’t ask why her hands are clammy. It only comforts her slightly.

“What’s your favourite colour?” Marianne blurts out randomly.

A chuckle escapes Héloïse’s lips. Her voice is light, “What? Why?”

“Just answer the question.”

“Yellow.” Marianne nods and tries to calm her breathing by taking a deep breath. That’s one down. “Why are you asking me?” Héloïse asks.

Marianne holds Héloïse’s hand tighter, “Getting prepared for when your mom asks.”

A chuckle escapes Héloïse’s lips. Her head shaking slightly at Marianne’s nervousness. “She won’t ask you that.”

“You don’t know that.” There’s a pause as Marianne decides what question to ask next. “What’s your favourite animal?”

“Marianne, my mom won’t ask you that.” Marianne turns her head to Héloïse to pout. Héloïse is too focused on the road to even see it. The silence prompts her to answer anyway, “Beluga whales.” Marianne chuckles at how serious Héloïse’s tone is. She appreciates Héloïse’s effort trying to calm her, but it doesn’t help much.

Soon, the Urus parks in an empty parking spot on the side of the road in front of a tall white cement building that runs parallel with a river. There were rows of windows with unique carvings around them, giving it an overall rustic feel. The car turns off and the two exit the warmth into the brisk city air. It’s busy on the road beside them as cars fly by the parked cars. Marianne stands on the sidewalk, staring up at apartment complex in awe, waiting for Héloïse to round the car and join her.

Seconds later, her empty hand is filled with another and a comforting presence surrounds her. They turn their heads to each other; their gaze meets and a smile appears on each of their lips. Marianne feels safe in this moment. All the fears of meeting Héloïse’s mother fades away. She’s convinced that as long as Héloïse is beside her, she is capable of doing anything. One final deep breath from Marianne and Héloïse leads her into the massive white building.

Inside was not as beautiful as the exterior. The stairs leading up to the individual apartments were cracked grey cement with rusted metal railings. The smell in it is indescribable, a mixture of musk and mold, with something unknown. They climb up three flights, their heavy boots echoing through the empty stairwell with each step. Each step makes Marianne grow increasingly anxious. Her hand becomes clammy and her chest is tightening. Eventually, they reach a heavy green metal door with the number 3 painted on it.

They enter the hallway. The walls have old beige wallpaper that are peeling off, the LED lights above are unnecessarily bright and the carpet beneath them is brown, more likely from dirt than anything. Hand in hand, they walk down the hallway, Héloïse one step in front of Marianne. Eventually, they stop in front of a white door with the number 17. Héloïse gives Marianne a reassuring look and squeezes her hand asking for permission continue.

With a final deep breath, she nods and Héloïse lifts her free fist up to the door to knock. Silence hangs in the air and the bubbling anxiety within Marianne boils more. Each second that passes feels like hours. When the door swings open and a smaller, older woman appears behind it, Marianne feels as if her heart will stop from the rate it’s beating.

The older woman is shorter than them both. Her short blonde hair is much curlier than Héloïse’s, but her blue eyes are just as intense, if not more. She looks Marianne finds her very intimidating, despite the lightness in her eyes and the inviting smile. Héloïse releases Marianne’s hand and wraps her arms around her mother’s neck. She watches the two blondes embrace one another and tries to ignore the sinking in her chest.

She misses her mom more than ever.

Héloïse breaks the hug and moves to introduce Marianne, keeping left arm around her mom’s back. Marianne has never seen Héloïse act like this before with anyone else other than herself. “Maman, this is Marianne.”

“Oh, please call me Valeria,” her voice is soft and dainty.

Marianne offers her the most genuine smile she can, which probably looks uptight and stiff. This doesn’t deter the older woman from giving her a loving smile. Marianne goes to extend her hand out, but instead is engulfed in a hug. She tenses, but then relaxes a second after and returns the hug. She fully embraces the hug, something she never got to do with her own mother much. It’s a bizarre feeling. Almost sad.

When the hug breaks, Marianne locks eyes with Héloïse. She has never seen her blue eyes so soft. Her heart starts to melt, the anxiety in her chest dissipates. Their gaze holds until they’re interrupted by a small cough. They both turn their attention to Valeria, who has a knowing smile on her lips.

“Well, let’s not stand outside. Both of you, come in,” Valeria says as she turns around to step into her apartment. Héloïse and Marianne follow behind her, not before intertwining their fingers together.

Inside the apartment is drastically different compared to the outside. The apartment is larger than expected with an open concept plan. The limited number of walls are painted ice white with elegant crown molding. The smell of homemade pasta lingers in the air. The kitchen is modernized with shiny stainless-steel appliances that look brand new. The living room itself is large, with two large black leather sofas facing each other with a glass coffee table in the middle. There’s a small dining room table tucked in the corner of the open space.

In the living room, above the brick fireplace, hangs a large portrait. It’s directly in view when entering from the front door. It’s a young beautiful Valeria. Her expression is blank, very distant. Marianne finds the painting exquisite. A masterpiece of a portrait. Valeria explains to Marianne that she had her portrait painted before she married her husband and moved to Milan. During this introduction at the door, Héloïse takes her jacket as well as Marianne and puts them away in a small coat closet next to the front.

“Juliette?” Héloïse’s voice booms through the quiet apartment, full of anger and surprise. Her grip on Marianne’s hand tightness. Marianne sees Héloïse tense and her eyes narrow. Héloïse’s caring demeanor vanishes and is replaced by anger. An eruption of flames and Marianne hand starts to burn. “What are you doing here?” A voice full of malice.

“Héloïse, be nice. I invited Juliette over for lunch,” Valeria interjects before Juliette has a chance to speak, but Héloïse doesn’t seem to hear her.

Juliette stands from the leather couch with a mug in hand. Marianne notices that Juliette stands shorter than her, but somehow, she feels intimidated. She remembers the yelling match that Héloïse and Juliette had that one morning. She fears what Juliette is capable of. Marianne feels herself cower behind Héloïse, who stands tall and confident for them both. She can feel the fire surrounding Héloïse and it grows each step Juliette takes towards them. Juliette’s red hair sways in her high ponytail as she walks.

Juliette looks at Marianne first, completely disregarding Héloïse who stands slightly in front of her. Héloïse strengthen the grip on Marianne’s hand. There’s a fake smile that appears on Juliette’s thin lips. “Hi, you must be Marianne, the one that I found in bed with Héloïse. I’m Juliette. Her ex-girlfriend,” her voice is high-pitch and nasally. There’s clear malicious intent behind her words. Most likely to make Valeria resent Marianne.

Marianne sees Valeria’s jaw drop at the sentence and Héloïse’s jaw clenches, her jaw-line becomes more evident. Juliette extend her hand out to shake Marianne’s. Marianne offers her the rudest smile she could muster as she raises her hand to shake the ginger’s hand. No emotion present beside annoyance in her voice. “Hi, yes we’ve met before.” Her hazel eyes meet dark brown eyes.

They shake hands, Juliette’s hand is oddly cold and Marianne notes how tight Juliette’s hand gripped hers. Their gaze holds and their hands don’t separate for an awkward amount of time. Marianne finds that each second that passes the hatred she has for Juliette grows. “Juliette,” Héloïse’s voice sends a warning. This makes the blonde release Marianne’s hand.

“Oh, calm down Héloïse. I’m just messing with your girl here,” Juliette says, turning around and entering the kitchen. She seems oddly comfortable in this apartment, as if she has been here time and time again.

Héloïse turns slightly, her eyes meet Marianne’s and they offer an apology. Marianne delivers back a look that gives Héloïse reassurance that she’s okay. Their silent conversation only lasts so long before Valeria speaks up, “Well, the food is done, so how about we sit and each lunch. Héloïse darling, would you mind helping me?”

Héloïse nods in response and Valeria disappears into the kitchen. She lets go of Marianne’s hand; the absence is felt immediately. “Babe, take a seat at the table. We’ll be out in a second,” Héloïse says walking away from Marianne, but not before planting a kiss on her cheek. She gives her one final smirk before following her mom into the kitchen. Was she trying to make Juliette jealous?

Marianne does what Héloïse requests and walks towards the dark oak dining room table. She sees that there are 6 seats, one at either ends of the table and two beside each other on the remaining two sides. Marianne finds a seat beside one of the ends. She can hear indistinct conversations coming from the kitchen alongside sounds of cutlery and plates colliding. Seconds later, Juliette emerges from the kitchen with a wine glass in hand that replaced the mug. The dark red liquid swirls as she approaches.

Juliette silently takes the seat in front of Marianne. They don’t make eye contact nor say a word to each other. Awkward tension floats in the air. Juliette’s demeanor has changed from a several minutes ago. She’s now quiet, less confident and timid. It remains silent until Héloïse enters the room with two wine glasses in hand. Her lips immediately upturn into a smile when she sees Marianne sitting at the table. Héloïse doesn’t even acknowledge Juliette’s presence as she approaches the table.

Héloïse places a wine glass down for Marianne, but doesn’t take a seat. Instead, she leans against the chair that Marianne is seated in and snakes an arm around the brunette’s shoulders. The awkward tension in the room replaced with animosity. The two are glaring at each other and Marianne hates knowing that it is because of her. So, she awkwardly sits there.

Eventually, the staring competition ends with Valeria calling Héloïse back into the kitchen. Héloïse gives Marianne a squeeze on the shoulder before putting her own wine glass down onto the table and walking away. The dark brown eyes of Juliette look back to Marianne, sending daggers flying across the table. Their eyes stay connected as Marianne picks up her wine glass and takes a sip. She sends her own daggers back. 

“How did you meet Héloïse?” Juliette’s annoying voice rings in Marianne’s ear. Hushed conversation resumes in the kitchen.

Marianne takes a pause to put her glass down, her eyes don’t break from Juliette to establish dominance. “We are partners for a class.” Her answer short and precise, giving Juliette little to no information. “How do you meet her?”

“We met first year at a party and I must say it was quite a fun night,” Juliette replies in a snarky tone. It makes Marianne’s stomach drop. The thought of Héloïse having sex with Juliette is quite repulsive, but she holds her strong demeanor. She can’t let Juliette see that it affected her.

Thankfully, Héloïse returns back into the living room with two plates in her hands. Valeria follows behind her a second later with an additional two plates. Héloïse places one plate in front of Marianne, giving her a soft smile. Then she places her own plate down and takes her seat beside Marianne. Valeria hands a plate to Juliette then takes a seat at the head of the table.

They all start to eat their pasta in silence, only words shared are compliments to Valeria. Some time passes before Valeria decides to ask Marianne some questions. “Marianne,” everyone at the table turns their attention to the older blonde. “What are you studying?”

“Art history,” Marianne answers after swallowing her food. Marianne hears a scoff coming from Juliette, but she decides to ignore it. Valeria seems oblivious to Juliette’s actions.

“Do you know what you’re going to do in the future?”

The question that Marianne dreads most. She always hated admitting that her family owns a popular art gallery. It makes her feel pretentious and snobby. “My family owns an art gallery, so I’ll be running that.”

Valeria raises an eyebrow with genuine interest written all over her face. “Oh? What is the gallery called?”

“Merlant gallery,” Marianne answers. “Must say it’s not the most creative name.”

A small laugh escapes Valeria’s lips. Her smile is bright and resemble Héloïse’s. “I haven’t laughed like this in the while.”

Marianne gives her a warm smile back. Juliette scoffs again and rolls her eyes. Before Juliette’s eyes can make one full rotation, Héloïse rapidly stands up from her seat. Her clenched fists hit the table as she does, causing the table to shake and noise from their forks hitting their plates create silence in the room. Marianne watches Héloïse’s body tense, her eyes narrow towards Juliette.

“Juliette, may I speak to you outside please,” Héloïse requests through gritted teeth. Marianne has never seen Héloïse this angry before. She finds it quite intimidating and scary.

Héloïse doesn’t wait for Juliette to answer, walking away as if she knows that Juliette will follow. Héloïse leaves without giving Marianne any reassuring look or touch and the absence is felt. Marianne doesn’t dare look at the angry Héloïse, scared that it would break her perfect perception of the blonde. The only Héloïse she knows is arrogant and pretentious, but she’s also sensitive and loving. This version of Héloïse is fiery and intimidating. A completely different person from what Marianne knows.

Juliette abruptly stands up, shaking as she does. Clearly an angry Héloïse intimidates and scares everyone. Marianne doesn’t watch Juliette walk away or turn towards the front door when it opens and closes. Silence fills the living room. It’s awkward. Valeria and Marianne both don’t know what to say.

“I’m sorry,” Marianne decides to speak up first. Her eyes don’t reach Valeria’s blue, scared that they’ll remind her too much of Héloïse.

“Don’t be dear. If I knew they were on bad terms, I wouldn’t have invited Juliette,” Valeria responds after putting her fork down in defeat. She rests her head in her hands propped up on the table by her elbows. Marianne can tell that she’s extremely tired.

“Héloïse didn’t tell you that they aren’t talking anymore?”

Valeria shakes her head, “Héloïse and I aren’t as close as we were before her sister died. She doesn’t talk to me much anymore.” Her voice full of sadness. Her heart clearly heavy.

Marianne feels sadness in her heart for them both. It is clear that the death of Héloïse’s sister deeply impacted them both. She doesn’t know what to say, so she hangs her head, her eyes focused on the semi-full plate of pasta in front of her. They both sit in a tense silence.

After a long moment, Valeria breaks the silence. “She’s very fond of you.”

This causes Marianne to lose her focus on the plate. Her hazel eyes, full of curiosity, meet blue ones. “How do you know?”

A warm smile appears on Valeria’s lips. Her answer simple, “She talks about you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you guys enjoyed! please let me know what you think :))))))


	16. Chapter 16

It’s dead silent in the car. Nothing but the engine purring and tires turning on cold cement. Marianne’s sitting in the passenger seat, next to a blazing Héloïse. Red flushes Héloïse’s face. Her entire body radiates heat, as if she’s actually on fire. Héloïse’s knuckles are white from the tight grip on the steering wheel. Her eyes are fierce and distant, full of fury. Her jaw clenched. Juliette seemed to have really riled up Héloïse during their conversation outside.

After a few minutes alone with Valeria, Héloïse stomped into the apartment with loud steps and tense posture. Anger present at the fore. She announces that they are leaving this instant, her voice is commanding and Valeria knows she’s not taking no as an answer. Marianne hesitates to get out of her seat while Valeria asked what was going on. Héloïse doesn’t provide an answer. Silence hung in the air too long while Héloïse struggled to get the coats out of the closet.

Only when Héloïse’s stormy eyes meet Marianne’s did she get up from her seat. Blue eyes have gone dark and eerie. Under the intimidating gaze, Marianne would do anything Héloïse wishes. Marianne gave an apologetic smile to Valeria as Marianne got up. Oddly, it seemed like Valeria understood. Marianne hastily walked over to Héloïse and took her jacket from the blonde’s hands. Héloïse waits patiently for Marianne to put on her jacket as if all her urgency and anger dissipates around Marianne.

Once Marianne’s jacket was on, Héloïse grabbed her hand and lead her out of the apartment, mumbling an apology to her mother. They walk past Juliette, who is leaned against the dirty old wall. Her arms were crossed, her body slightly hunched over. Juliette watched Marianne the entire way. Her brown eyes laced with a mixture of anger and sorrow.

A sinking feeling arises in Marianne’s chest. The emotions present in Juliette’s eyes are vividly engrained into Marianne’s memory. She’s scared to ask what Héloïse said to Juliette. She’s unsure if she wants to even know. With the internal conflict within her mind, she decides to stay silent.

For what felt like eternity, they sat silent in the car as Héloïse drove away. A million thoughts race through Marianne’s mind. The thoughts don’t stop when the car stops, or when they walk through the hotel lobby with her hand intertwined with Héloïse’s or when they’re in the privacy of their own room. Her mind finally stops when blue eyes meet hazel. They’re standing in the middle of their room, still with jackets on.

The world around them vanish. Marianne’s mind goes blank. Negative feels replaced by a warming feeling in her chest. They just stand there, in silence as they gaze upon each other. Héloïse eyes search hers for something unknown. Anger still present, but her tense stature has relaxed. Marianne wishes nothing more than to give it to her.

Eventually, her features show no anger. They’re as soft as she remembers them. The ocean in her eyes no longer roaring with heavy waves, instead now a calm sea. Héloïse breaks the silence, “I’m sorry.”

Marianne is quick to shake her head, dismissing the apology. “Don’t be.” 

Silence fills the room again.

Marianne doesn’t know if she should ask any questions or not. The look Héloïse has in her eyes urge her to, but she decides to remain silent. As the cliché goes, ignorance is bliss. Marianne gives Héloïse a defeated look. Another second passes with blue eyes on hers before they leave. The absence is felt instantly, the empowering feeling of love nowhere to be found.

Marianne stays frozen as she watches Héloïse take off her jacket. She can tell from the blonde’s movements that she is exhausted, even though it’s barely past 2pm. Eventually, Marianne follows suite and gets out of her own winter clothing. Soon, they’re both lying in bed naked together. The surrounding air is brisk from the outside, but it’s warm under the covers. They’re face each other,

“Did my mom ask you what my favourite colour was?” Héloïse jokes, her blue eyes glow with the sun outside.

Marianne’s lips can’t help but upturn into a grin. The tension in the room lightens slightly. The butterflies flutter in her stomach and her chest aches, but in a good way. “No,” Marianne answers.

Héloïse’s has her signature smirk on them. Marianne loves this version of Héloïse. Relaxed, loving and happy. “My mom likes you.”

“How do you know?”

“You made her laugh. I haven’t been able to do that in a while.” There is a sadness present in Héloïse’s voice. Her body starts to tense at the realization. Marianne wants to take her sorrow away, but she doesn’t know how to. She wants to take all the weight off of Héloïse and carry it around for her.

“I didn’t do anything,” Marianne rebuttals. She tries her best to make Héloïse feel better. Marianne reaches her hand out and places her palm delicately on Héloïse’s cheek. Héloïse relaxes at the tender gesture, a small smile forms on her lips, but her eyes have dark clouds in them.

They spend the next minutes without muttering any words. They do nothing but gaze into each other’s eyes and Marianne falls in love with Héloïse more every second that passes. All the anxiety and fears from earlier have disappeared, as if they were never there to begin with. Eventually, blue eyes start to disappear behind fluttering eye lids. Marianne watches Héloïse’s features relax, her body sinks into the bed further each minute that passes.

They spend the rest of the day lounging in the peacefulness of their bed. Even though they are on vacation, Marianne doesn’t mind doing nothing with Héloïse all day. She can’t think of anything else she’d rather be doing than spending time with Héloïse. They order room service and rent movie to fill the hours of the day. The questions from earlier in the day sometimes makes their way back into Marianne’s thoughts, but she always manages to push it away by distracting herself.

Each time, it gets harder to ignore. Each time, Marianne thinks of the worst that Héloïse could’ve done. Each time, the deep unknown feeling in her stomach becomes vaster, more unbearable. Especially now, with the sun below the horizon, Marianne’s mind races.

“What is it?” Héloïse’s question breaks Marianne out of her thoughts.

Marianne turns her focus from the TV to Héloïse beside her. They’re both sat up against the headboard. Her blonde waves fall so effortlessly and her blue eyes are so captivating. Marianne manages to shake the overbearing questions from her mind as she answers, “Nothing.”

She watches eyebrows furrow. Marianne knows that Héloïse isn’t convinced. “You’ve been distant all day.”

“I’m sorry,” Marianne feels bad and decides to finally get the questions answered. Better than dwelling on the unknown. She takes a deep breath before asking, “What did you talk to Juliette about?”

Héloïse’s demeanor completely changed. Her body, that was once relaxed, now tense as a statue. Her blue eyes go cold and a completely different Héloïse emerges. Hearing Juliette’s name always makes Héloïse “Nothing really. She was acting like a bitch and talking shit about you to my mom so I just told her to shut up and grow up.” Marianne doesn’t know what to say next. Her chest warms with the thought of Héloïse defending her. “I couldn’t stand her making those noises every single time you spoke or the look she gave you.”

Suddenly, a wave of guilt washes over Marianne. She’s been so accustomed to assuming the worst of everyone that she actually believed that Héloïse was malicious towards Juliette. Héloïse just reminds her so much of her father, but she pushes the thought away, putting deep into the void and prays it never resurfaces. Instead, she decides to focus on the fact that Héloïse defended her.

There’s an overwhelming need to touch Héloïse that builds on Marianne each second that passes with their eyes connected. There’s an indescribable sexual tension always present in Héloïse’s eyes and Marianne finds it incredibly sexy. Especially with her blonde hair tousled and her eyes so intense. So, she leans in and connects her lips with Héloïse’s. Her lips are soft and the kiss is delicate. Marianne leads the kiss, trying to spill all her feelings into Héloïse. Her lips spell the four-letter word that they are too scared to say, hoping that Héloïse will get the message.

Each kiss starts to become more urgent, more passionate. As if Héloïse felt the word through Marianne’s kiss and is responding. Héloïse sparks a flame within Marianne when her hand finds its way onto Marianne’s bare thigh. Her fingers rub sensitive skin, sending a shiver down Marianne’s spine. Her entire body starts to ache for Héloïse’s touch. She yearns feeling Héloïse gives her. She never thought she’d be in this position, so desperate for one person.

Their breathing picks up, more ragged and their lips press harder together. Marianne can feel the lingering anger still present with the fierceness of each kiss. Something within Marianne ignites and the desire to take charge grows. She moves and mounts Héloïse waist, knees on either side. Héloïse’s find their place on Marianne’s waist and holds her tightly as their kiss continues to become more urgent.

Marianne hands are brought up to Héloïse’s face, one cups her neck and the other in her hair, pulling Héloïse closer. Their teeth hit one another as their lips smash into one another. A deep throaty moan escapes Héloïse’s mouth as Marianne’s grip tightens around her neck. Marianne continues to take lead, stifling her moans in her throat, as Héloïse’s fingers play with her clit over her underwear.

“No, I’m in charge,” Marianne breaks the kiss, her lips brush Héloïse’s as the words escape. Her hand moves from Héloïse’s neck and grips Héloïse’s wrist.

Her grip tightens as Héloïse applies more pressure. Marianne closes her eyes. Her head tilts back from the wave of pleasure that washes over her. Her teeth capture her bottom lip to stifle a moan, but one still escapes. She regains composure after a short moment and manages to move Héloïse’s hand away with some resistance. Marianne holds Héloïse arm by her wrist over her head. Héloïse is tense under the control of Marianne.

They stare at each other. Héloïse’s blue eyes are filled with dilated pupils, full of arousal. Marianne knees weaken at the sight of them. The intensity is unmatched, something that Marianne has never seen before displayed in ocean eyes. Marianne sees every emotion sitting on the wavy water like little boats. It’s a constantly battle for space on those waters.

Then something changes.

The waves soften. Héloïse relaxes. Her lips turn into a smirk. Marianne’s chest warms. The lamp illuminating the room beside them becomes brighter.

“I love you,” escapes Héloïse’s lips.

And for the first time, Marianne says it back.

* * *

Marianne wakes up to an empty bed the next morning. The room dim from the closed curtains, the sun barely seeping through the crack. The barren bed beside her is made and cold. A frown forms on her lips and a huff escapes them when she turns over to check her phone that sits charging on the bedside table. No messages from Héloïse, but a few from Charline. She takes her time to respond to Charline’s messages that consist of her ranting about her parents and talking about how amazing Sophie is.

Just as she hits send, their hotel door swings open and Héloïse walks in with her hands full with a tray of cups and a brown bag in the other. There’s a huge smile plastered on Héloïse’s face, her hair tied up messily and she’s wearing Marianne’s sweater and sweatpants. Each step she takes is merry, happiness radiating from her. “What’s this?” Marianne asks, turning to her side to face Héloïse.

Héloïse stops at the side of the bed, placing down the items from her hand before she starts to take off her clothes. “It’s breakfast. You sleep like a dead person. When are you meeting with that guy again?” Héloïse’s sweater is off and her bare chest exposed.

Marianne goes to sit up against the head board, the white duvet falls from her shoulder and sit around her bare waist. Héloïse stops taking off her sweatpants half-way down her thighs, with her mouth slightly agape. Her pupils dilate. Marianne rolls her eyes at her girlfriend. “2 and quit staring like that.”

Héloïse closes her mouth and drops her sweatpants the rest of the way. Marianne picks up the drinks and moves away the bag for Héloïse to climb back into bed. “How can I stop staring when my girlfriend looks like that?” Héloïse asks as she gets under the covers. Marianne rolls her eyes, ignoring the fluttering feeling in her chest. Every day she’s with Héloïse, she falls in love more with the stupidly charming blonde.

“I don’t know, but try harder.” Marianne’s response elicits a small chuckle from the blonde.

Héloïse turns her face towards Marianne, “I don’t want to.” She moves her hand to grab a coffee from the tray in Marianne’s lap. Marianne’s breath hitches as Héloïse does, her mind automatically assumed sexual thoughts. This earns her a sly smirk from Héloïse, knowing her effect on Marianne.

They don’t say anything as Héloïse takes a sip of the steaming drink. Marianne watches her, embarrassed, sure that her cheeks have gone a deep red. They drink their coffee and eat the bagels that Héloïse got while flipping through TV channels. After breakfast, they shower together then get dressed for Marianne’s meeting.

“Are you sure you want to come?” Marianne asks slipping on a black turtle neck.

She tucks it into her grey slacks as Héloïse answers from the bathroom, “Yes. I want to spend as much time with you as I can.” Marianne’s lips turn into a small smile. Héloïse emerges from the behind the wall dressed in white polo and black jeans as Marianne finishes putting on her belt. “Plus, you look like this.”

“Oh shush,” Marianne says as Héloïse approaches her. “You really always know what to say, huh?”

“Only around you,” Héloïse answers as she wraps her arms around Marianne’s neck and pulls her in for a soft kiss.

It’s tender and makes Marianne forget about everything. Héloïse is like a breath of fresh air and Marianne’s scared of losing her. She has never felt so certain about anything, anyone, before and it’s frightening, but she’ll swallow the lump in her throat. For now, she’ll live in the present. Where she’s safe in Héloïse’s arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey everyone we're back. I'm going to push to finish this fic by august, idk if i'll be able to accomplish it, but we can hope. ive missed u all sorry for being gone it's been a time for me :) if u guys have any questions/concerns message me on tumblr @ charlinelabonte.tumblr.com. hope u guys enjoyed let me know what you think


	17. Chapter 17

Marianne and Héloïse enter a dirt parking lot of what seems like an abandoned storage unit outside the city of Milan. There are no other cars around. It’s sketchy looking, especially with the darkened clouds above them and a light fog that surrounds them. As they pull up to the grey cement buildings, Héloïse asks, “Are you sure this is the right place?”

Marianne checks her phone once again, “Yeah, this is the address he gave me.” She looks up from the phone and at the buildings. “It looks kind of-”

“Scary,” Héloïse finishes her sentence and Marianne agrees with the slightest nod. “I hope we don’t get murdered,” Héloïse jokes, which earns her light slap on the arm from Marianne, who is trying to stifle a smile.

Héloïse puts the Urus in park and waits for Marianne’s instruction. Marianne texts the man who tells her to come to unit 19. They both exit the car and into the damp air. The moisture in the air almost makes it hard to breathe. It’s surprisingly warm for it being the middle of winter and looks like it’s about to rain very soon. They both walk around the car, meeting in front of it where Héloïse intertwines their fingers together before they approach a big sign.

Marianne reads the sign in front of them, showing the location of the units. She’s fully aware that she’s getting no help from Héloïse as she feels Héloïse’s intense gaze on her. The sign is barely legible, clearly worn out by years of being outside, but Marianne can rough make out where the unit is. Marianne tugs silently on Héloïse hand to lead them towards it.

As their boots crunch on the gravel beneath them, trying to traverse the concrete buildings, Héloïse leans into whisper, “How fast are you?”

Marianne turns her head to give Héloïse a confused look, “What?”

“How fast are you at running?” Héloïse asks again. She wraps her arms around Marianne’s one arm to keep her close.

The confusion grows on Marianne’s features but she decides to humour Héloïse anyway. “I ran track back when I was 14, so not fast.”

“Track?”

Marianne focuses on the numbers above each chipped white metal doors. They turn around a corner and the number close to what she’s looking for comes into view. In the distance, there is a faint figure that cannot be seen through the thickening crowd.

“Yes. Why?” Marianne answers as she continues towards forward. For some reason, her anxiety grows. The environment feels way too creepy and ominous.

“Because if he’s a killer, then I’ll sacrifice myself while you run.” A snicker comes from Héloïse, more nervous than joyful.

Marianne lightly shoves Héloïse playfully as they approach the figure. A very tall many emerges from behind the blanket of fog. He’s in a very proper fitted black suit without a jacket even though it’s the middle of February. Something about this makes Marianne feel uneasy.

“He’s not wearing a jacket. He must be a murder,” Héloïse mumbles under her breath.

Marianne tightens her grip on Héloïse’s hand, telling her to remain silent as they approach the man. Once close enough, Marianne can easily see that this man has the most non-threatening face she has ever seen with his soft eyes and bright smile. Héloïse lets go of Marianne’s arm when the man extends his hand to Marianne.

“You must be Marianne,” He says in Italian, his voice deep but gentle.

Marianne takes his hand in hers and gives him a firm shake. “Nice to finally meet you Matteo,” She responds in Italian. She gives him a gentle smile back.

They let go and he turns his attention to Héloïse who has her arms crossed in a defensive manner. It takes her by surprise when he offers her his hand. She hesitantly takes it, giving him a piercing look and firm smile. Marianne finds it endearing how Héloïse is protective over the situation, but she wishes Héloïse would learn how to smile. Marianne decides it’s only polite to introduce Héloïse as well, “This is my girlfriend, Héloïse.”

To Marianne’s surprise, Héloïse’s demeanor doesn’t change when she addressed her as her girlfriend. She quickly realized that Héloïse didn’t know Italian. Marianne remembers Héloïse telling her that Valeria took Héloïse back to France after her father passed when she was young, so she never got to learn the language.

“Hello,” Matteo greets Héloïse warmly as they shake hands. Héloïse only responds with a nod. Marianne smiles at how clueless Héloïse can be sometimes.

When they let go of each other’s hand, Matteo turns his attention towards the metal door in front of him. “Well, let’s not waste any more time,” He says as he bends down to grab the handle.

As it slides open, the inside starts to grow brighter with every inch that the door opens. Their peaceful surroundings now filled with the screeching of rusted metal. Inside is completely filled with boxes and covered items of what assumes to be furniture. The world around them falls peaceful again once the door is completely open. Marianne and Héloïse watch Matteo try to maneuver around the crowded area.

“I know it’s back here somewhere,” Marianne hears him yell behind home stacked boxes. “I bought this storage unit for cheap and I saw this artwork a few months ago so I decided to see if it was worth anything.” They hear more shuffling.

Marianne spends this time staring at Héloïse, who is staring into the cluttered unit. She studies Héloïse’s features. Memorizing the way her nose slopes down, how her lips look so soft and supple. She watches Héloïse’s loose waves blow slightly in the wind, studying how they fall around her ear. The blue in her eyes unlike any other shades Marianne has seen. Each feature so perfect. Marianne has an urge to paint her. 

“I found it!” He exclaims, snapping Marianne out of her daydream. She looks away and quickly pushes the thought away.

Some more fumbling and ruckus, he emerges from the back with a medium sized landscape frame. He sets it down on a chair and gestures for Marianne and Héloïse to come closer. The each take a couple steps towards the painting as Matteo steps back. As soon as Marianne locks eyes on the painting, she’s instantly captivated.

Each detail in this painting was meticulous. It’s obvious that the artist truly cared about this piece. Marianne’s hazel eyes scan the painting, analyzing all the small details. So focused, she’s unaware of the words spoken by Héloïse. The background does not depict the underworld, instead of a rocky shoreline with cloudy skies. The sadness so evident on Eurydice’s face as she’s being pulled away from her lover. For some unknown reason, Marianne feels a deep connection to this painting.

Soon, she’s pulled away from the spell that was casted on her. She looks at Matteo, who looks at her with a warm smile. She returns the smile, then realizes that Héloïse is not around. She stands tall and alert, her eyes scan the fogged environment, looking for any sign of the blonde.

“Her phone was ringing so walked away to take it,” Matteo explains to Marianne.

Marianne blinks at him with bewilderment. Somehow, she completely missed that event while examining the painting. Marianne’s panic subsides and she starts to make a deal with Matteo as she waits for Héloïse to return. They both agreed that he’ll mail the painting to Paris and she’ll wire him the money as soon as he signs the contract.

They shake hands as Héloïse appears. Marianne can tell there’s something off about her. Her walk is stiff and fast, her face is blank. As soon as Héloïse locks her blue eyes on Marianne, she instantly knows something is wrong, even from a distance. Marianne’s stomach drops. She hastily says her farewell to Matteo and speed walks towards Héloïse. As Marianne gets closer, she can clearly see the watery blue eyes and the quivering of her lips.

Héloïse extends her hand and Marianne slips hers into Héloïse’s without question. Héloïse turns her heels and starts towards the car without a word. Marianne follows. She would follow Héloïse anywhere without hesitation. Each step she takes matches her heartbeat. Rapid and rhythmic. Marianne starts to worry, wondering why Héloïse is frantic and upset.

Once they’re in the car, Héloïse starts it up. In silence, she pulls out of the parking lot. Only when they’re on the road, Marianne starts to ask her questions, “What’s wrong?”

“Maman is in the hospital,” Marianne’s stomach drops. She has a feeling that something terrible is about to happen. “She called the ambulance and the hospital called me,” Héloïse’s voice is laced with panic.

“Did they say why?” Marianne asks, her voice shaky.

Héloïse only responds by shaking her head.

Marianne watches Héloïse drive, not knowing what to say and taking her time absorbing the information. Héloïse’s grip tight on the wheel, her eyes stormy and focused on the road. Marianne puts her right hand onto Héloïse’s bouncing leg, hoping that it’ll ease Héloïse’s anxiety. Marianne can see Héloïse calm slightly as she takes her left hand off the steering wheel and placing it onto Marianne’s.

“She’ll be okay,” Marianne speaks softly, trying to not startle her anxious girlfriend.

Héloïse’s lips press together, as if she’s trying to suppress tears as she nods. Héloïse hears the words. Marianne can feel her own heart break as her chest tightens looking at her girlfriend. She wants to ease all the pain and fear Héloïse is feeling. The inability to help makes Marianne feel useless, but she knows that there is nothing she can do to take the pain away. So, she will support Héloïse in every way she knows how.

* * *

Héloïse rushes through the doors of the hospital with Marianne one step behind her. Marianne’s hand losing blood from the tight grasp Héloïse has on it. It’s a busy but bleak environment with nurses and doctors in a constant rush to be everywhere. The walls are an ugly shade of white with basic commercially produced posters hanging on them. They reach the front desk and Héloïse starts to ask where her mother is.

The nurse responds to her in Italian and Héloïse’s demeanor instantly changes. She visibly panics, something that Marianne has yet to see. Instinctually, Marianne steps in front of Héloïse, “We’re looking for Valeria Haenel.”

The nurse starts to type something into the computer in front of her. Without looking away from the screen, she asks, “What’s your relation to her?”

“She’s my girlfriend’s mom,” Marianne replies rather impatiently. The nurse picks up on it and an annoyed look washes over her face. Marianne regrets her tone, but doesn’t apologize.

“One moment,” The nurse responds anyway.

During this time, Marianne turns to Héloïse. Her face is full of fear. Her fingers of her free hand frantically tap the side of her leg and she consistently shifts her weight from one foot to the other. Marianne gives her a reassuring smile, but it doesn’t help much. Marianne pushes the guilty feeling of being useless away and tries her best to be strong for Héloïse.

“She’s in room 17 on floor 3. Visiting hours are only for a few more hours,” The nurse eventually says.

Marianne quickly memorizes the number then walks away after thanking the nurse. Héloïse walks beside her, the grip on Marianne’s hand still tight. Marianne can tell that Héloïse’s anxious. Her once strong and calm attitude completely replaced. They make their way to the third floor and start towards the hallway where Valeria is.

The walk down the hallway is torture. It feels like the longest hallway ever. Not knowing Valeria’s condition is stressful for Marianne, she couldn’t even imagine how Héloïse feels. Their steps are fast, just shy of a jog. Each step is a different thought that races through Marianne’s mind of many scenarios. The thoughts only stop when they reach the partly open oak wood door with the number 17 painted on in black. Her mind instantly goes blank.

Héloïse takes a deep breath beside Marianne before speaking up, “Can I go in alone?”

Marianne wants to object. She wants to be there for Héloïse every step of the way, but she knows that Héloïse wants this. In this moment, Héloïse’s wants are more important than her own. Marianne only nods, believing that her voice would fail her. Héloïse finally drops Marianne’s hand. It was sudden. It felt like Héloïse was being torn away from her.

Héloïse enters the room through a small gap that she pushed open, then closes it behind her. Héloïse doesn’t turn around. It makes Marianne’s heart drop. She tries to push the feeling away, but it makes her chest ache. She stands there for a moment, staring at the number on the door. Her eyes start to blur before a passing doctor asked if she was okay, pulling her back to reality. Marianne nods to the doctor, then finds a waiting area nearby where she decides to take a seat in dark blue plastic chairs.

Marianne finds a seat tucked in a corner. The seat is painfully uncomfortable. There are only a few people around her, all with tense posture and worried expressions. In front of her is a painting of some fruit in a bowl hanging on the white wall. It becomes the most interesting thing in the room, capturing her attention. She doesn’t know how long she stares at it, but she takes time to meticulously analyze it. It is nothing compared to the painting she saw earlier. She wonders how her day turned around so quickly.

Héloïse appears from around the corner after an unknown amount of time. Marianne’s eyes, for the first time, tears away from the painting and onto her girlfriend. Instantly, she knows something is very wrong. Her gut told her this before, but the tears welled up in sad blue eyes confirms it. Without hesitation, Marianne stands and walks towards Héloïse. Each step, her heart races faster. Her vision focuses only on Héloïse. She tries to put on a strong expression despite feeling like her chest is amount to explode.

When close enough, Héloïse falls into Marianne’s arms, her head buries into Marianne’s neck. Her sobs start to unleash. Marianne doesn’t know what to do besides hold her girlfriend. Her arms are wrapped around Héloïse’s torso as the blonde’s chest heaves with heavy breaths. They ignore the people walking past. The environment around them freezes. Marianne rubs Héloïse’s back with her hands, trying to comfort her. She has never felt her chest ache like this before. She desperately wants to take Héloïse’s pain away. She only hopes that Héloïse can find salvation in her arms, like she does in hers.

Eventually, her breathing returns to normal. The tears stop falling. Héloïse lifts her head from Marianne’s neck. Her eyes are swollen and red, still watery. Marianne still finds her beautiful. They gaze at each other for a moment. Marianne tries to communicate reassurance and love through her eyes.

Héloïse opens her mouth after the moment passes. Her voice is hoarse from crying. “Marianne, she’s dying.”

Mariann's heart breaks. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> saying i'll try to finish this fic by august might have been too ambitious. i am trying to write, but so many things are happening in my life rn making it a lil difficult. i hope u guys enjoyed this chapter, let me know what you think. miss u all x


	18. Chapter 18

No one ever tells you how hard it is to watch someone you love go through heartbreak. It’s one type of pain to watch both your parents die in front of you and another watching the love of your life lose hers. When Marianne lost her parents, she remembers shutting down. She remembers endless of days and nights in bed, doing nothing but staring up at the ceiling. She barely ate or slept. Marianne was a mere corpse, feeling nothing at all. Only with the constant support from Charline and Megan was she able to get better. Even then, some days are still difficult to get through.

But now, Marianne feels everything. She feels her own repressed emotions bubble from the void and she feels the pain that Héloïse tries so hard to hide. Marianne knows that it’s her turn to take care of Héloïse. Last night, the day they found out that Valeria was dying, was definitely the worst of it. Marianne and Héloïse stayed by her bed for the rest of visiting hours while she slept. Valeria didn’t wake up once while they were there and Marianne could tell that it took a toll on Héloïse.

That night when they returned back to the hotel room, Héloïse immediately left without word and returned minutes later with a bottle of dark liquor. Marianne doesn’t question where she got it from, instead silently watches Héloïse from where she sits on the edge of the bed. Marianne watches Héloïse slump into the small armchair in the corner with her boots and winter jacke still on. Héloïse’s face is blank only with a hint of sadness in her slouched features. Blue eyes refuse to meet hazel, instead staring nothing.

Marianne doesn’t know what to do or how to help. The silence in the room rings in Marianne’s ears. She can’t stand to watch Héloïse drink straight from the bottle while smoking a pack of cigarettes. Héloïse’s eyes are lifeless and her body molds into the chair she’s in. Every ounce of Héloïse’s soul has been drained and replaced with sorrow and despair. The fire within her is extinguished. She’s all blue, no red left. It breaks Marianne’s heart, but she allows Héloïse to do what she needs to cope.

Eventually, Marianne becomes tired. Exhausted from the day and from watching Héloïse deteriorate right before her eyes. It has only been 10 minutes since Héloïse opened the bottle. Héloïse didn’t make it half way through the bottle before Marianne rips it out of her hands after some arguing. She walks away with the open bottle in her hand receiving hateful looks and a slur of swear words from her girlfriend. She ignores it. Marianne reminds herself that lashing out is normal. Especially since she is drunk. This is not the Héloïse that she knows.

After pouring out the rest of the bottle down the sink, she returns back into the room and sees Héloïse attempting to light another cigarette. Marianne quickly walks over to the blonde and pulls the unlit stick away. If Héloïse wasn’t angry before, she certainly is now. Marianne shoots her a soft smile, hoping that it would calm down Héloïse. It works, but only slightly. Blue eyes full of rage, but her lips stay shut. Marianne puts the cigarette back into the packet then places it on the dresser beside them.

Marianne helps Héloïse into the shower, where she sits on the ground, cradling her drunk sobbing girlfriend. She makes note about how cold the tile beneath her is, but how warm Héloïse feels against her bare skin. Marianne heart continues to break each time Héloïse’s body heaves. She has never felt her own chest feel heavy. It’s hard to breathe at times, but she doesn’t mind, she’ll drown for Héloïse.

When Marianne finally got Héloïse dried off and into bed, she instantly fell asleep. Marianne laid awake for most of the night. Her hands tucked under her face as her eyes stay glued on Héloïse. Héloïse looked so peaceful while she slept. All the sadness, anger, and tiredness seize to exist. Finally, Marianne can feel at peace herself. At least while Héloïse is asleep, she doesn’t feel any pain. Never did Marianne think she would find herself loving someone so deeply. It’s overwhelming, but she wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.

* * *

“Marianne?” A soft hoarse voice calls out, pulling Marianne out of her thoughts.

Marianne pulls her eyes away from the bleak white wall. The silent room fills with sounds of Marianne shifting in her chair. Her thoughts of Héloïse vanish as her eyes meet vividly blue eyes. Valeria’s face is lifeless, her body motionless. Marianne musters up the happiest smile she could despite feeling depressed. She reaches out and places her hand gently on to Valeria’s.

“How are you feeling?” Marianne tries to hide the sadness in her voice. Years of practice has made it convincing. 

Valeria’s lips try to curl into a smile, but only the ends lift slightly. Marianne can tell that the older woman is exhausted. Her body completely frail. She’s a completely different person from the one that Marianne met some days ago.

“I’ve seen better days,” Valeria responds. Her chest falls as if she’s out of breath. Marianne rubs her thumb over Valeria’s wrinkly skin trying to comfort her. She’s careful to be gentle, as if Valeria will shatter under her hands.

Marianne watches Valeria’s tired blue eyes scan the room. There’s a hint of sadness and disappointment on her face. Marianne instantly knows that Valeria’s looking for Héloïse. “Héloïse went to go get coffee. She should be back soon,” Marianne reassures her making Valeria’s body calms.

Blue eyes meet back with hers. There’s a sense of worry present in them. It’s scary how much emotion both Héloïse and Valeria carry in their eyes. “How is Héloïse?” Valeria asks. The concern in her voice makes Marianne’s heart break.

Marianne doesn’t know whether to be truthful or not. Héloïse is so evidently distraught so lying isn’t even an option. She needs to choose her words wisely so she takes her time to formulate her words. All Marianne can remember is how Héloïse looked this morning. Her eyes were so cold, tired and distant. The hangover she woke up with didn’t help with her mood either.

Thankfully, before she could decide on the words, Héloïse walks rather sluggishly through the door with two cups in her hands. Her posture slouched and tired. Her eyes carry a certain heaviness to them. The blue in her eyes have lost their electric glow, replaced with a dim subtle blue. They carry so much sadness that every time Marianne stares into them, it gets harder to breathe. As if she’s growing in dark ocean water.

Héloïse locks eyes with Marianne first. There’s a small light in her eyes that glisten, but only for a mere second before it becomes clouded again. Marianne misses the red fire in her eyes. Next, Héloïse eyes slowly trail towards Valeria. There’s hope in her eyes as they travel the short distance between Marianne and Valeria.

When her eyes finally land on Valeria, a wave of relief washes over her. As if something inside Héloïse switched on and her former self is released. Her shoulders finally relax from being tensed. The sorrow that was so clear in her eyes seemingly vanish and replaced with joy. This is the Héloïse that Marianne knows best. It’s exhilarating to see her girlfriend like this.

Héloïse excitedly walks towards Valeria. Both with cheery eyes and bright smiles on their face. Marianne stands quickly in time for when Héloïse reaches the bed and extends her hands out to take the cups of Héloïse’s. As soon as the cups are out of Héloïse’s hands, she leans down to kiss Valeria on the cheek. It’s such small, but sweet gesture. Valeria weakly lifts her frail arm to wrap around Héloïse’s shoulders to give her a small hug.

“Oh Maman,” Héloïse sighs out. All the anxiety in her escape with her exhale. Even if it’s just for a little while, Héloïse deserves to feel contentment. “How are you feeling?” The smile on Héloïse’s face is infectious.

“I’m okay my dear,” Valeria answers. “How are you?”

“Don’t worry about me,” Héloïse says sitting down in the other chair beside Valeria’s bed.

This earns her a disapproving look from Valeria. “Of course, I worry about you. You’re my daughter.”

Marianne decides to give the two their privacy. She walks around the end of Valeria’s bed still with two cups in her hand. She walks towards Héloïse who is still too focused on the conversation with her mother. Marianne holds one of the cups out in front of Héloïse who accepts it gracefully. Héloïse finally breaks her attention away, her bright eyes look up at Marianne. It takes her breath away. Still to this day, Marianne wonders how Héloïse has such an effect on her.

Héloïse takes the coffee from Marianne with her lips curled into a genuine smile. Marianne’s heart melts. “Thank you love,” her voice is so soft and loving.

Marianne leans down and places a kiss on Héloïse’s forehead. Her body further relaxes under Marianne touch. When she stands back up, Héloïse eyes open. The fire back in her eyes. Marianne makes an excuse to leave the room to give the two their privacy. The atmosphere of the hospital went from mundane to hopeful. There’s a deep pit feeling in Marianne’s stomach that this bliss won’t last long, but she refuses to dwell. One thing she has learnt is that life is too short and to live in the present, even if it is only temporary.

Marianne walks through the hall, periodically bringing her cup to her lips and taking a sip of bad coffee. She’ll deny that she was eavesdropping on conversations that the nurses and doctors were having. She wonders how many deaths they’ve seen. Morbid, but hospitals have always been a place where people go to die. She takes her time walking through the halls, busy staring off into the distance or reading posters off the wall. Her mind can’t help but think back to the morning. 

Héloïse was acting very strange from the minute she woke up. She was cold and distant, even more so than the night before. She was out of bed and dressed before Marianne was even awake. Héloïse’s words were limited and straight to the point. It felt as if Marianne was a burden to have around. She turns one corner and reasons that it’s because Héloïse is under a lot of stress. She rounds another and she starts to fear that she’s another burden to carry.

By the time she’s back on the hallway here Valeria’s room is, she doesn’t know what to think anymore. The coffee in her hand has gone cold. All she can do is put on a brave face for Héloïse and be as supportive as she can. When she nears the room, she sees Héloïse standing outside the room with a doctor. Her arms are crossed over her chest, one hand brought to her mouth where she anxiously bites her nails. Héloïse’s eyes are wide and there’s an expression in them that Marianne can’t read.

Each step Marianne takes closer to Héloïse is slow and hesitant. She watches Héloïse the entire way, analyzing every move the blonde makes. The surrounds are loud and drown out into a white noise to a point where her ears ring. She doesn’t even hear her own footsteps. Half way there, all hope in Héloïse’s eyes vanish. Marianne’s stomach drops. She knows that it’s bad news.

Marianne waits a small distance away, out of earshot of the conversation between Héloïse and the doctor. She anxiously plays with the bottom of her loose long sleeve while she waits for their conversation to conclude. Her eyes find the floor oddly interesting at this time as thoughts fly through her head at immense speeds. She wishes for the best, but only bad scenarios decide to occupy her mind.

Eventually, the conversation ends and the doctor walks away. Marianne watches Héloïse, anticipating her to look over, but she doesn’t. Instead, Héloïse finds the nearest wall and puts her back against it. Her head molds perfectly into her hands as her breathing becomes ragged. Marianne hastily walks towards Héloïse and holds her while she sobs. Héloïse doesn’t melt into her. Even with Héloïse is in her arms, Marianne has never felt more distance between them.

* * *

Friday was spent in the hospital. Marianne doesn’t know if she’s imagining it or not, but Héloïse barely looked at her and shared even less words. Marianne feels like she’s suffocating but she tries to suppress the nagging in her head that something is wrong. She just wishes that Héloïse would let her in, but each attempt she makes Héloïse only pushes away further. It’s painful to know that Héloïse is going through unimaginable pain and the last thing on her mind is Marianne.

Héloïse spent most of her time outside the room talking to doctors and nurses about unknown topics. The stress is so evident in her stature and the movement in her hands as she speaks. Marianne and Valeria watch Héloïse from inside the hospital room. Marianne’s tensed as she stares out. She’s so fixated on Héloïse through the window to realize that Valeria was talking to her until her named was called.

“Marianne?” She tears her eyes away from the window and looks upon Valeria. Her blue eyes are soft and content. She doesn’t seem scared of dying. Is she being brave? Or is she actually not afraid? “Please take care of her.”

Marianne supresses the urge to cry. She starting to think that she’ll be unable to take care of Héloïse. Every hour, the Héloïse she fell in love with disappears. Every minute, Héloïse pushes Marianne further and she’s scared that soon, she’ll be unable to feel Héloïse. She feels so cold and alone. Remaining strong is becoming too difficult.

* * *

It’s now Saturday and today was the day they had planned to drive back to Paris. School starts back up on Monday. There’s only a month left of school before exams and everything will start to pick up again. Marianne can’t imagine going back to Paris today. Seeing Charline and Megan, who she has not spoken to at all for the past week. Walking through campus to go to class. But it’s starting to look like nothing will return normal.

Marianne has just woken up. The room is dark from the blacked-out curtains and eerily quiet. Only ticking from the running mini fridge can be heard. She’s turned towards a sleeping Héloïse who is facing her. She’s so close to her in proximality but she feels so distant. She wishes she could just reach out, taking away all the negative feelings that Héloïse is experience. She wants her old Héloïse back, but she doesn’t know if she exists anymore.

After watching her sleep for an unknown amount of time, Héloïse starts to stir. Marianne quickly closes her eyes, faking a slumber. She feels Héloïse’s staring at her. Those blue eyes still hold so much power in them, but she doesn’t move. She hears a small sigh from the blonde and shuffling beside her as Héloïse gets out of bed. Marianne opens her eyes when she feels Héloïse sit on the edge of the bed. She watches her back, wanting to reach out so desperately but her hands stay away from the cold.

After a few seconds has past, Héloïse exhales a deep breath, her shoulder slouches with her chest. Then, her body tenses. Marianne can tell she’s gripping the corner of the bed tightly with the way her arms flex. Marianne stays still, her eyes focused on Héloïse’s back. The room becomes somber. Marianne becomes uneasy with the sudden mood change.

“I think we should break up.”

Héloïse never fails to take Marianne’s breath away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey everyone lol so i've been gone for quite sometime and i don't really have any good reason besides the lack of desire to write and being busy. im going to try to finish this fic before the end of august. there arent that many chapters left so hopefully i'll be able to. i hope u guys understand and arent too mad at me :) hope u enjoyed this chapter


	19. Chapter 19

Classes were torture today. Everything was much bleaker without Héloïse. The skies above a depressing grey, the air frigid and the sun is nowhere in the sky. Everything is so blue. Walking around campus alone felt foreign. Every turn, there was that little hope that Héloïse will be standing on the other side, with her stupid smirk and loving eyes, but she’s always met with a ghost. A hazy figure of Héloïse who always has the smirk that makes Marianne weak. For that one second, she’s at peace.

Marianne fought the urge to cry in all of them, especially the seminar that they once shared together. The conversations around her were white noise to her ears. She spent the duration of the lecture staring blankly at her laptop background. As soon as the TA was done her speech, Marianne immediately packed up and left. Knowing that if she stayed, she would definitely start crying.

Marianne is pulled away from her thoughts when Charline calls out her name. Her brown eyes soft and hold pity in them. Marianne hates the pity. She watches Charline turn back to the TV in front of them. The flashing lights from the digital picture illuminates her face. Marianne feels a sense of comfort looking at her best friend. Charline has always been there for her at her worst.

“Have you told Megan?” Charline repeats her question.

Marianne immediately looks away from Charline as her chest aches at the reminder. Her eyes focus on the screen in front while fighting the urge to let the tear fall out of her watery eyes. “No,” Marianne responds, her voice breaks slightly. It is the only answer she could muster.

Charline nods in response. Marianne hasn’t really told anyone, not out loud at least. She managed to text Charline about it while in the airport, waiting for her plane back to Paris. Marianne distinctly remembers looking up from her phone after hitting send and seeing a ghostly image of Héloïse. Her heart hurt so much that day. It feels the same today.

That night, Marianne sat awake on her phone. The room slightly spinning and her mind foggy. The wine consumed clouds her judgement. She stares at Héloïse’s contact. Her finger hovering over the call button. It’s only been two full days since she has heard Héloïse’s voice. She misses Héloïse so much that her bones ache for the blonde. Marianne wonders if Héloïse would even pick up the phone, or would she instantly decline it. If she’s even awake. Maybe Héloïse blocked Marianne. The thought makes Marianne nauseous. The wine wanting to escape so desperately.

She stares at it for a while longer. The alcohol gives her the courage to finally press the button. She holds the phone up to her hear. The call starts to ring. Marianne’s free hand anxiously fiddles with her lip. She doesn’t know what she’s going to say.

The first ring makes her heart race.

The second one makes her wonder if Héloïse ever loved her.

Her name escapes from the familiar voice makes her world stops.

* * *

Two week passes and the pain hasn’t gone away. Everything around her is so mundane and blue It’s difficult to cope with such loss. Especially when every little thing reminds Marianne of Héloïse. The sky shines a blue that are so similar to Héloïse’s blue eyes. The rays from the sun shining on her skin makes her warm, like Héloïse once did. The unwanted happy memories linger in Marianne’s mind and no matter what she does, she can’t forget them. Only Megan and Charline keeping her sane. Even then, she can feel herself going crazy.

To distract herself, she busies herself with either school or spending time at the gallery. School is a poor distraction, since she shares two classes with Héloïse, but it does help. The days she spends in the library with Charline and Sophie are her favourite. They make her laugh and make her forget about the empty feeling in her chest.

Today is especially hard. The semester long project that Marianne and Héloïse is coming to wrap. Marianne hasn’t spoken to Héloïse about it at all and wondered if Héloïse was still going to do her part. She did. She emailed Marianne her part today. There was no subject line. It started off by Héloïse explaining that they didn’t have to do the final presentation. Somewhere in between, Héloïse apologized, then she ended it by saying those three words.

I love you.

Never did Marianne think those three words would hurt so much.

While in the gallery, her time was divided into two projects. She spent most of her time prepping artwork for the next exhibit which they are unveiling in April, after she graduates. Thankfully, most of the paintings were already cleaned and ready from the buyer. The rest of her time spent was painting. Marianne remembers the time that Héloïse said she’d model for her, so she decided to paint Héloïse portrait from memory as a way to cope. It’s been easier than she thought, remembering all the small details.

That night, Marianne spent time with Megan over at her apartment after work. Charline was on a date with Sophie. Marianne knows Charline and Megan are taking turns hanging out with her. She’s rarely ever alone and she’s thankful for it. All the time spent alone is usually done in bed and crying. Who knew heartbreak would take so long to recover from?

Megan ordered take-out that night. They’re seated on the same couch, turned and focused on a terrible movie. Marianne’s head is elsewhere, thinking about what Héloïse is doing tonight or how Valeria’s doing. She hasn’t spoken to Héloïse since she called that one night and their conversation was short-lived. Marianne hung up after she heard Héloïse say her name when she picked up. Héloïse tried to call back but Marianne didn’t answer. She couldn’t see her screen past the tears in her eyes.

“How are you holding up?” Megan asks after a few minutes of silence.

Marianne can feel her eyes on her. Too scared to turn she answers her while staring ahead, “I’m okay.” Her tone quite harsh and laced with sadness.

Marianne hopes that Megan will pick up on her tone and not continue this conversation, but Megan is never one to stray away from a hard conversation. “Have you spoken to her?”

“No,” Marianne answers shortly.

Marianne’s eyes start to water. Her vision blurs as she feels shifting beside her. Megan’s arm reaches around Marianne’s shoulder and pulls her in. Marianne rejects it at first but then melts into Megan. Her body becomes weak as if her bones disintegrate. The comfort that Megan provides strip Marianne’s walls down. The tears she’s been holding in for so long start to escape. A waterfall of emotions streams out of her eyes.

Marianne stays over at Megan’s that night. After a long argument, Megan finally allowed Marianne to take the couch, despite offering her bed. The living room is dark now. The only light coming from the crack from Megan’s open door. Marianne is lying fetal position on the couch that they were just seated on, her head resting on a pillow and covered by a heavy blanket. The sadness in her chest is so heavy.

She stares into the darkness, too scared to close her eyes. Héloïse somehow always appears when they do. It feels as though she’s missing a piece of herself. She doesn’t blame Héloïse. Héloïse had to go, and she knows. But that doesn’t stop the pain nor the memories. Marianne misses her so much. Eventually she closes her eyes and drifts off into the vastness of her mind.

* * *

Marianne’s eyes widen. She doesn’t know if she heard the words that escaped Héloïse’s mouth correctly. Her body is frozen in place. The walls of her chest start to crumble as 

Héloïse turns to look at her. There are tears falling from her blue eyes. Ones that look so sad. Even while her own heart is breaking, all Marianne wants to do is take away all the pain that Héloïse. She wants to reach out so badly.

“I’m sorry,” Héloïse’s voice is broken and shaky. Marianne knows this is hard for her to say. “I feel like I’m dragging you down with me. I can’t have you around knowing that I am not giving you any part of me.”

Marianne sits up, the comforter drops from her naked body. Héloïse’s eyes don’t leave hers like they normally do. Marianne is scared to reach out and touch Héloïse. “You’re not dragging me down. I want to be here for you,” Marianne’s voice is small.

“You can’t be here for me,” These words hurt Marianne. They slice at her heart with a sharp beveled edge. “I need to do this alone.”

Though, Marianne understands what Héloïse is saying. She did the same for her own parents’ death. She needed to overcome the emotions within herself before she was able to let anyone in. Marianne doesn’t know what to do. She wants to stay with Héloïse, but worried that if she pushes to stay then she’ll push Héloïse away further. Héloïse’s blue eyes are begging her to make this easier.

Marianne suddenly gets sucked into Héloïse’s eyes. Marianne has never come close to drowning, but she’s stranded in the middle of the sea. All she sees is blue around her. Her breathing is rapid and her body grows tired from trying to keep afloat. The sky is dark, pitch black and the moon is nowhere to be seen. The water is crystal clear, but nothing can be seen beneath her. She turns in the water and sees nothing. So, she decides to stop fighting. She stares off into oblivion as she slowly sinks.

She wakes up with tears in her eyes and a thin layer of sweat on her skin. Her breathing is ragged and she tries her best to remain quiet, not to wake Megan. Without thinking and in a hurry, she gets up from the couch, puts on her shoes and leaves the apartment. Thankfully, Megan gave her a key so she is able to lock the door behind her. She unknowingly walks into the brisk air of early-March. In a rush, she left her jacket in Megan’s apartment and she’s worried that if she returns, it will wake Megan up.

So, Marianne’s in a rural neighbourhood somewhere in Paris in the middle of the night. The sky is black with the moon high in the sky, illuminating the streets below. There are cars parked on the side of the road with small amounts of snow on them. It’s eerily quiet, but Marianne finds comfort from it. Her apartment from Megan’s is a 30-minute walk away and tonight had to be the only night that Marianne didn’t drive herself.

Marianne scans her environment while she decides what to do. It’s cold enough that she’s convinced she’ll get hypothermia if she decides to walk to her apartment. She can’t turn around and go back to Megan’s apartment, knowing that she’ll definitely wake her up. She refuses to order an uber at this hour out of fear for her own safety. Feeling defeated by her limited options, she starts to make her way back to Megan’s apartment and will just face the wrath of her aunt.

After a couple of steps back, Marianne stops dead in her tracks. She turns her heels and heads towards the opposite direction. Her heavy boots hit the grey cement sidewalk beneath her. Her steps are quick. As she’s walking, she makes sure to keep an eye on her surroundings. Thankfully, she makes it to her destination without seeing another person. She unlocks the back door with cold trembling hands, before entering the warmth of the gallery.

In darkness, Marianne can retrace the gallery like the back of her hand. She makes her way to the backroom and hastily shuts off the alarm system, before turning on the lights. The lights tinker on and the almost-completed portrait of Héloïse stares at her. Marianne stops dead in her tracks. All the air within her lungs escape. The hollow auditorium of her chest echoes with an unfamiliar heartbeat. The gaze from blue eyes send a bullet through Marianne’s chest. It ignites a fire in her that she hasn’t felt in a long time.

In a blaze of fury, Marianne stomps towards the painting. She grabs a dirty rag from a table nearby and connects it to Héloïse’s painted face. Without hesitation, she smudges the hours of work and detail she put into perfecting the look of the love of her life. Then suddenly, she stops at the realization of what she has done. It feels as though she has erased another part of Héloïse from her life. Slowly, Héloïse is disappearing.

Marianne releases the rag from her hand, letting it drop to the ground below. An overwhelming feeling of emptiness washes over her as she looks at the ruined portrait. The colours blended together and her blue eyes are nowhere to be seen. The fire inside of her quickly extinguishes with the heartache that is settling in. A heaviness sits on her shoulder and her lungs are unable to accept any air. Marianne’s hands go clammy and her knees give up.

She falls to the ground, her body slumps. The uncontrollable tears release from her eyes and slide down her cheek. Her vision blurs with the water in the eyes. She sobs. Her cries ring and bounce off the walls of the empty space. The ground is as cold as her heart. Marianne wants nothing more than to be held by Héloïse at this moment, knowing that she’ll be the only one who could comfort Marianne. Ironic. How the one that caused her such heartache can also be the one to help her.

But she can’t. Héloïse is hours away. Héloïse is not hers anymore.

Marianne sobs louder, her breathing no longer rhythmic and her chest hurts. She puts her head onto the cold concrete ground and closes her eyes. She wonders what Héloïse is dreaming of. She wonders if Héloïse still cries about her or not. She wonders if Héloïse even thinks about her. Marianne knows that Héloïse has more important things to deal with than to think about Marianne. Regardless, Marianne holds onto the small chance that Héloïse is okay.

She hopes that she is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey everyone. sorry it's been a hot minute since i've updated. finishing this by the end of august seems ambitious now since i've pretty much procrastinated all my work and have left it all to do now. i'll try my best to push out chapters as fast as i can. anyway, this chapter was really hard for me to write. shit was sad and i just dreaded writing it. heartbreak is a bitch :( i hope you guys enjoyed, please let me know what you think. i wish you all the best and stay safe!


	20. Chapter 20

Marianne no longer goes to class. Mainly because it’s mid-march and no one else goes to class anymore. Marianne’s definitely passing all her classes this semester. She reasoned that there was no point wasting time in lectures when she barely pays attention anyway. Charline still forces her to go to school, where she’ll spend her time in the library with either Sophie or Charline. Marianne is always thankful that Sophie and Charline include her in everything.

After school, Marianne usually always ends up in the gallery after she spends a few hours at school. All of the painting preparations for the next exhibit have been finished, so she spends her time at the receptionist desk. Sometimes Megan stays with her until close and they keep each other company while doing their respective work. Other times, Megan leaves work early to spend it with her new girlfriend.

Since the night in the gallery, each day has been getting easier for Marianne. She has finally come to terms that this break up was more for Héloïse than anything. She knows deep down that Héloïse still loves her. She still constantly thinks about Héloïse, but these thoughts no longer bring tears to her eyes or make her chest tight. Marianne misses her so much.

Tonight, Marianne is left alone at the gallery. It’s a Friday night, so Megan is out on a date with her girlfriend. Marianne’s just finishing up with closing the gallery as her phone rings. The blaring noise fills the silent room. Marianne fishes her phone from her back pocket, not looking at the caller ID as she picks up. “Hello?”

The other line has soft music playing in the back and she can hear some giggling. “Hey Marianne!” Charline yells through the phone, her voice full of laughter. “Are you almost done?”

Marianne sighs. She forgot that Charline is forcing her to go out clubbing tonight. Marianne rubs her temple. It has been an exhausting day and the last thing she wants to do is get drunk and be surrounded by sweaty people. All she wants is to be snuggled in bed with a nice glass of wine.

“Do I have to?” Marianne asks. Her voice slightly whiny.

There’s laughter from the other side. Marianne knows Sophie is with Charline right now. She can’t help but laugh at her friend’s antics. Marianne’s surprised that being around Sophie didn’t hurt as much as she thought it would. Sophie never talks about Héloïse, even when Marianne asks.

“Yes, you promised,” Sophie screams from the back.

Marianne smiles slightly. She’s thankful she has friends like them. Maybe tonight will be fun. Marianne takes one last deep breath before answering, “Fine, I’ll be home in 30 minutes.”

The girls cheer on the other side before they hang up. The gallery grows quiet again after Marianne tucks away her phone. The sadness that would usually onset is nowhere to be found. Marianne promises herself in that moment that she will make tonight the best night she can. She finishes up the last tasks and starts to head home.

30 minutes later, Marianne walks through the front door. There’s music playing from the back of their flat. All the lights are on and the house is warm, so inviting. Before she can even take off her shoes, Charline and Sophie come running of Charline’s room all giggly. They stop on top of the small flight of stairs. Charline has her arm over Sophie, who is leaning into her lovingly. They have huge smiles on their face. It’s infectious and makes Marianne smile too.

“How was your day?” Sophie asks her.

Marianne kicks off her shoes and looks up at the two, “It was long.”

As she ascends the stairs, Charline releases Sophie and gives Marianne a big hug. Marianne has never been one for affection, but she can never say no to Charline. Marianne will never admit it, but this is exactly what she needed after her day. She hugs her back as Sophie joins the hug. The three stand in the living room in an embrace.

Eventually, the music is blaring throughout their apartment as they get dressed. Marianne is putting the final touch to her light make-up, before checking herself out in the mirror. Charline begged her to wear this black short-sleeve button-up that makes her, quote look like flaming dyke unquote. Marianne tucked it in some black ripped jeans. She leaves a few buttons unbuttoned at the top. Marianne added a silver chain belt and a nice silver watch to complete the look.

As she’s checking herself in the mirror, Sophie pokes her head in. There’s an odd smile on her face, almost mischievous looking. Marianne doesn’t have time to question her before she is pulled by her arm and taken out of her room. Sophie, even though small, is surprisingly strong as she drags Marianne with what seems like minimal effort. Sophie pulls Marianne into the living room, where two shots have been poured and sitting on their dining table.

“We’re taking a shot,” Sophie says letting go of Marianne.

Sophie picks up both shot glasses, handing one to Marianne. Marianne hesitantly accepts it, looking at the clear liquid. No bottle in sight, the only thing on the table is a bottle of juice. Marianne looks at Sophie who is still smiling. “What’s in here?”

“Stop questioning and take the shot,” Sophie holds out her glass for Marianne to tap hers with it.

Marianne shrugs. Fuck it. She clinks her glass with Sophie and brings it to her mouth. The alcohol burns her throat as she swallows. She doesn’t grimace. It reminds her of the last time she cried about Héloïse. The burning is all too familiar. She drops the shot glass, watching Sophie take a sip of the juice. Sophie extends the bottle to Marianne. She takes it from her hands and tastes the sweet juice. It tastes like Héloïse’s lips.

* * *

Marianne hasn’t been to the club in a while, but it’s exactly the same as she remembers. Flashing lights of all colours, shit music that plays a little too loud and sweaty drunk people dancing off beat in the middle of the club. As Marianne’s absorbing her environment, she’s pulled out of her thoughts, literally, again by Sophie. Sophie drags Marianne with Charline in the lead directly to the bar. Apparently, the four pre-game shots that they all took wasn’t enough.

Charline orders them three shots. Marianne doesn’t know what she’s drinking at this point. It just all tastes the same and the burning in her throat is no longer evident. Marianne feels good, great almost. The music starts to sound good; the lights don’t blind her as much and she feels like she’s on top of the world.

After the three finish their shot, Marianne is again pulled by Sophie, this time towards the dance floor. They somehow push their way into the middle of the dance floor. Normally, Marianne would hate being pushed around by strangers, but she finds it weirdly comforting. As if she’s a part of something, even something small like the movement with the crowd. The alcohol flows nicely through her body as she sways to the music.

There’s no care in the world as her mind grows hazy. At first, the girls dance facing each other. After a few songs and the alcohol has finally settled in, Sophie and Charline are dancing on each other. Marianne’s off in her own little world to care. She dances as if she’s the main character in a movie. Her eyes are closed as she sways to whatever song is playing at the time. Her eyes only open when she feels someone tap her shoulder.

Marianne turns around, her eyes slowly opening as she does. For that split second that she’s turning, she hopes that it’s Héloïse. She hopes to see deep blue eyes that enchant her. She hopes to see that stupid smirk she always has one. The messy blonde hair that never looks washed. She hopes to feel Héloïse’s hands on her. Marianne wants to feel her lips on hers.

But it’s not Héloïse. It’s a woman, who has blonde hair and blue eyes. She doesn’t look like Héloïse, but has all the features like her. She’s quite attractive. Big blue eyes that lack fire, short blonde hair that doesn’t have one strand out of place and taller than Héloïse. Much taller. She’s wearing a loose white t-shirt with some blue jeans. The jeans make her legs look as if they go on forever. Marianne only realized afterwards that she was fully checking out this girl when she looks up and sees a smirk on her face.

The smirk doesn’t make Marianne’s knees weak. The blonde leans into Marianne’s ear, “What’s your name?” Her hot breath tickles Marianne’s ear. Her voice is soft.

“Marianne.”

“Hello Marianne. I’m Elizabeth. Can I buy you a drink?”

Marianne only nods. She knows more alcohol would be a bad idea, but life is made up of bad decisions anyway. Elizabeth moves away from Marianne’s ear and extends her hand out. Marianne hesitantly takes it, then follows her out of the crowd. She takes Marianne to the same bar she was at and leans over the counter to call a bartender. She doesn’t let go of Marianne’s hand, while she orders. Marianne’s side lightly touches Elizabeth’s. She only turns towards Marianne to ask what she wants.

Soon the bartender comes back with two shots. Finally, she lets go of Marianne’s hand to pick up both glasses. She turns, her back leaning on the counter and hands Marianne one. Her lips are slightly upturned at the corner and her eyes smoldering. Marianne accepts the cup of clear liquid and clinks it against Elizabeth’s. They both take the shot, Marianne notes that Elizabeth doesn’t look away from her once. The burning settles in the back of her throat. Marianne grimaces this time.

Elizabeth takes the empty glass from Marianne’s hand and puts both on the counter before turning back to her. They’re close. Marianne can feel Elizabeth’s warmth radiating off her skin. They stare at each other. It’s not the same like when she stares at Héloïse. These blue eyes don’t ignite a fire, but she’ll admit that the blonde is attractive.

“Want to dance?” Elizabeth asks after a few moments.

Marianne nods and Elizabeth takes her hand again. She’s led to the dance floor. The world around her starts to slowly spin. Maybe this last shot was a bad idea, but Marianne pushes the thought away. She dances, not keeping in mind of Elizabeth. She can feel the taller blonde press up behind her. Her hands are on Marianne’s hips as they sway to the music.

Each minute that passes, the music gets louder. Marianne feels something growing in her chest. She doesn’t know what it is, it’s a foreign feeling. She feels Elizbeth press closer to her, her hands travel from her hips. Her hands leave a trail of ice as they venture Marianne’s torso. The song ends as abruptly as Elizabeth turns her around.

Before Marianne knows what’s going on, the blonde’s lips are on hers. Marianne instinctually kisses her back. Her hands raise from her side and laces her fingers into the blonde’s hair. For some reason, their lips don’t mold together. They lack the same pace. Marianne’s the one to break the kiss. It was unsatisfactory,

Elizabeth’s lips quickly attach themselves to Marianne’s neck. It doesn’t feel good. It feels as if her lips have spikes on them and are digging themselves into her skin. One kiss. Two. Every time her lips lift to kiss another part, it feels as though there’s a poison left behind. Three. Marianne turns her neck to stop Elizabeth. She can tell the blonde is drunk because she doesn’t think anything of it.

Marianne doesn’t leave. Instead, she takes Elizabeth’s hand and leads her out of the crowd. Marianne leads her to an empty booth. She climbs in, Elizabeth following behind her. She turns herself to face the blonde. Marianne realizes that the blonde is so much taller. Marianne releases her hand. Her own hand trails upward, her finger lightly traces a trail. Marianne places her hand lightly behind Elizabeth’s sweaty neck and pulls her in.

Their lips crash into one another. This time, they kiss in unison. Their lips mold together and they kiss at the same pace. There’s still something missing. It doesn’t feel right and Marianne can’t pinpoint what. Pushing the feeling away, Marianne kisses her harder and faster. She tries to fill a Héloïse-shaped void in her chest with someone that doesn’t fit at all, but she continues to try anyway.

They kiss more, dance more, drink more. The night goes on and Marianne finds Sophie and Charline again. They all dance together, the four of them. It wasn’t until Charline said she was done with the night that Marianne started to feel panicked. She doesn’t know whether to invite Elizabeth back or not. Maybe doing so will help her move on from Héloïse.

As they walk towards the exit, Marianne doesn’t know what to say. Charline and Sophie announce that they’ll wait outside and call an uber. Marianne turns to Elizabeth. The blonde’s face is tense and her eyes unreadable. Marianne doesn’t say anything at first which prompts Elizabeth to say, “I’m going to go find my friends.”

Without realizing it, Marianne responds, “Come back with me.”

Elizabeth’s face relaxes. A smile appears on her lips. They both exit the club together and meet the other girls on the sidewalk. The weather is definitely cold, but the alcohol in their system keeps them warm.

“The uber is 5 minutes away,” Charline slurs her words a little. “So, we didn’t quite catch your name in there.”

“Elizabeth,” She says with her hand extended outwards for a handshake.

Charline takes it first, “Charline and this is my girlfriend Sophie.” Elizabeth shakes Sophie’s hand next.

“What do you do?” Sophie asks her.

Marianne gives her friends a look to tell them to stop interrogating the blonde, but they don’t acknowledge her.

“I write music for movies,” Elizabeth answers.

This surprises Marianne. “Oh, you do?”

Elizabeth turns to her, “Yes, for small films. I hope to expand, maybe eventually move to Hollywood and score movies there.”

“Do you know English?” Charline asks.

“A little.”

Their conversations continue until the uber comes where they all pile in. Sophie sits at the front while the three pile into the back. Everyone’s evidently exhausted and starting to sober up. The car ride is silent. The low hum escapes the speaker, some instrumental music floats through the air. Marianne knows this song. It’s “Summer” by Vivaldi. Héloïse choose to him for their project. Her chest sinks. The climax of the song starts to play and Marianne feels a wave of sadness wash over her.

She remembers sitting in bed and listening to this song when Héloïse first told her to. She remembers listening to it again with Héloïse, sharing the same pair of headphones in class. This song holds so much meaning to her.

Then, in the middle of the song, a loud ringtone erupts in the car. Marianne can feel the buzzes of her phone in her pocket. She can feel everyone in the car look at her. The driver through the rear-view mirror, Sophie turned around and the two beside her. She lifts herself slightly off the leather seat of whatever car they are in to take her phone out from her back pocket.

She sees her name and picture on her phone.

Her heart starts to race.

Marianne slides her thumb across the screen without waiting another second and holds the phone up to her ear. She’s scared to use her voice. Her heartbeat rings in her ears. She opens her mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. The world is spinning around her and it’s not from all the alcohol she has consumed. There’s a feeling of fear that settles into her stomach.

“Marianne?”

Her voice is exactly as Marianne remembers.

“I need you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> surprise! here's another chapter. something sparked in me today and i managed to finish a whole chapter in 1 day like i used to. i hope u guys enjoyed this chapter. hopefully i will talk to u all soon :)


	21. Chapter 21

Marianne doesn’t take Elizabeth home. Instead, the uber took a detour to Elizabeth’s home before returning back to Marianne’s. Thankfully, she didn’t question anything and left rather willingly. Marianne has been silent for the entire car ride. Marianne feels stupid for not speaking a single word into the phone. Her phone sits in clenched hands that rest in her lap. Her heart is pounding against her chest with such power, she’s convinced that it’ll rip open her chest. She doesn’t know what to expect when she gets home and that makes her nervous.

The round the final corner that turns onto Marianne’s street. Héloïse told her that she’s outside her apartment and would wait for her to come back. Her chest so tight that it might crumble with any sudden movement. Marianne hasn’t seen Héloïse in about a month. She wonders if her blue eyes will still make her knees weak or if that smirk still sits on her face. If this is the same Héloïse she knows or if it’s a completely different version of her. Regardless, Marianne knows she’ll love every version.

As the car proceeds down their street, Marianne sees the Urus parked on the side. The black paint blends into the darkness of the night. Héloïse isn’t in the car when they pass by it. Marianne can see her apartment as they drive closer. Her ears start to ring, her leg shaking in anticipation. Then, the car stops. Marianne stares out the window and sees Héloïse standing against the brick wall beside their front door.

She’s illuminated by the light outside their house. She looks heavenly like always. Her messy hair tossed to the side. Her arm crossed around her chest. The tattooed hand at her face as she takes a pull from a cigarette. She’s wearing an oversized sweater with sweatpants. Her face looks tired, her body frail. Marianne assumes the worst, but surely Sophie would’ve told her if Valeria passed.

Charline and Sophie open the door at the same time. Charline whispers a quick encouraging good luck before exiting. When both of them are out of the car, Sophie laces her fingers between Charline and walks into the apartment without saying a word to Héloïse. It isn’t like Héloïse was even paying any attention to them anyway, her eyes glued on Marianne as she gets out of the car. Marianne doesn’t dare look into Héloïse’s eyes yet. She turns and thanks the driver, before closing the door.

One last deep breath she turns. Blue eyes meet hazel and Marianne knows she’s screwed. Her heart stops its rapid beating and starts to equal into normal rhythms. Héloïse still has her under a spell. A wave of confidence washes over Marianne. Maybe it’s from the alcohol that’s still in her system or from the way that Héloïse makes her feel. Marianne feet start to walk forward towards Héloïse. Every step she takes, time slows. Marianne watches Héloïse the entire way, their eyes don’t leave one another.

One step, she watches Héloïse exhale a cloud of smoke.

Another, she watches Héloïse stand up from the wall.

The next she sees a smirk grow on her lips. Then Marianne’s in Héloïse’s arms.

Time stops and the world stops revolving. Marianne has her arms around Héloïse’s neck, Héloïse’s arms around her waist and they hold each other tightly. The fire lights in Marianne. Héloïse’s embrace feels the same. She smells just like Marianne remembers, with a hint of tobacco. It feels like nothing has changed. Like no time has passed between them, as if Héloïse has been here all along and the fire has never died out. Héloïse still gives Marianne a sense of comfort she hasn’t felt anywhere else. Every negative thought vanishes around her.

They stay like this for a while. It’s not like either of them care. Nothing in the world can beat the feeling they give each other. Héloïse feels like a breath of fresh air. Like cloud 9. All of the clichés don’t come close to explaining the freeing feeling Héloïse gives Marianne. Marianne hasn’t realized how much she missed Héloïse. It almost makes feeling all that heartbreak worth it.

After a bit, they both let go. Marianne takes a slight step back so she’s not on top of Héloïse, but it’s not like she would mind. Héloïse puts out the cigarette against the wall, but keeping the unlit stick in her hand. Héloïse plays lightly with Marianne’s hand. Her actions are so tender and loving. Marianne watches Héloïse. Her blue eyes are averted elsewhere, focusing on everything else besides Marianne. For the first time, Marianne feels as if she’s in control and not passive like she always is.

“Are you okay?” Marianne whispers. She takes her free hand and places it on Héloïse’s cheek. Héloïse visibly melts into her hand, her head tilting slightly into it.

Héloïse’s eyes flicker up, meeting Marianne’s. It makes her breath hitch. There are so many emotions in her stormy eyes. It’s hard to pinpoint one. “No. I’ve missed you.”

Marianne’s lips curl slightly. She has to look away, an overwhelming sense of happiness floods her. All the countless hours wondering if Héloïse missed her are now reassured. Marianne drops her hand and pulls Héloïse in for another hug. The blonde snuggles into Marianne’s neck. She has Héloïse right where she wants her to be. Marianne promises to herself in this moment that nothing can take Héloïse from her again.

“You smell bad,” Héloïse says, her hot breath on Marianne’s neck. It sends a shiver down her spine.

Marianne pushes herself off of Héloïse. Marianne pushes out her lower lip in a pout and she crosses her arms to feign being hurt. Héloïse reacts by giving her a toothy grin. Marianne can’t help but smile back.

“Come on, let’s go inside.”

Marianne takes Héloïse’s hand and leads her into her apartment. It’s dark when they enter the house. The only light source coming from Charline’s room. They kick off their shoes and climb the short flight of stairs, careful to not break apart their hands. Marianne feels euphoric in the presence of Héloïse. Each passing second spent with her is better than the last. It feels as if they have both invented a love language that only they speak.

Soon, they’re both naked and under a stream of hot water. Marianne’s back is to the water and Héloïse is standing in front of her. Marianne lets the warmth from the water relax her muscles as she leans back into it. She’s fully aware that Héloïse’s eyes are glued on her since she feels a trail of flames on her skin. Marianne always felt powerful under Héloïse’s gaze. She always feels the sexiest around her.

After wetting her hair, Marianne turns, her back facing Héloïse. When she does so, she feels Héloïse’s hands immediately on her wet skin. Her hands are warm and soft. Marianne watches as they start on her waist, slowly gliding up Marianne’s sides. Marianne’s skin feels like they are burning from the contact. One hand stops on Marianne’s stomach, Héloïse’s right hand continues upwards, lightly brushing over Marianne’s breast, past her neck and stops at her jaw.

Héloïse presses her body to Marianne’s. All her senses become oversensitive. Marianne feels every centimetre of Héloïse’s skin on hers. Her entire body engulfs in flames. The water starts to feel cold against her skin. She feels Héloïse’s breath on her ear and her heart pounding in her chest.

“Do all lovers feel like they’re inventing something?”

* * *

“Shower sex sucks,” Marianne says as she puts on a pair of shorts.

Héloïse stops drying her hair, “Well, I’m sorry that I under performed.” There’s that stupid grin on her face. She knows that she was good.

“Yeah, it was below average.”

Héloïse takes a short step towards Marianne. The smile fades. She’s intimidating with her strong gaze, but Marianne doesn’t falter. She knows that Héloïse is soft.

“Oh yeah?” Héloïse asks. Marianne feels her breath on her lips.

Marianne’s eyes squint and her lips curl, “Yes.”

“That’s not how you reacted earlier.”

“I faked it.” A frown appears on Héloïse’s face. Marianne tries not to laugh.

“Was I actually bad?”

Marianne gives a quick peck on Héloïse’s lips. “Of course not.”

Soon, they’re in bed together, facing each other. The room is dark and quiet. The moon shines through the window, illuminating Marianne’s face. Héloïse can’t take her eyes off of Marianne. Marianne truly feels at peace. She wants to ask why Héloïse came back, but she’s afraid of the unknown.

“I missed you,” Héloïse whispers.

Marianne’s chest grows warm. “Me too.”

“I thought I could do it alone.”

“I know.”

“I thought I didn’t need anyone.”

“I know.”

“I need you.”

Marianne pulls her hand from under her face. She places it lightly on Héloïse’s cheek, her thumb stroking the soft skin. Her blue eyes are full of tears.

“I’m here Héloïse.”

* * *

The next day, Marianne, Héloïse, Sophie and Charline all fly to Italy. The hospital room is filled with an overwhelming sadness. A weight on everyone’s shoulders. The bleak white walls are bleaker than ever. It’s eerily quiet, the only sound coming from Valeria had requested to pass with the help of medical assistance. Héloïse and Marianne are on one side of the bed and Sophie on the other. Charline waits outside in the waiting room, not wanting to invade an intimate moment.

Valeria is very frail, even more so than a month ago. She’s motionless, in too much pain to move. She has a tube in her nose to help her breath. She’s especially pale and her lips are chapped. Marianne’s heart is broken looking at her.

Héloïse’s surprisingly remaining strong. Tears find a home in her eyes, but they don’t dare to fall. She’s sat beside Valeria’s bed, her hand on Valeria’s, her thumb rubbing it slightly. Marianne knows her chest aches and her heart is heavy, despite having a toothy grin on her face. Marianne likes to believe that her hands squeezing lightly on Héloïse’s shoulders help.

Sophie has always been one to be emotional. Tears fall like a heavy rainstorm from her eyes. Her sobs loud with the heaving of her chest. Her arms are crossed as she stands beside Valeria’s bed. Valeria was her mother figure growing up after her mother died while she was young.

The three are having their final conversation together and Marianne is detached from it. She feels as if she’s not even in her own body. She watches from afar, the three interacting, all of them knowing this is the end. She can see contentment in Valeria’s eyes. She doesn’t seem afraid, or sad or anger. She looks peaceful, as if she’s ready to embrace death.

White noise fills the room as the doctors file in. There’s a faint ringing that comes from an unknown source. Marianne can see the doctor’s lip moving, but nothing comes out of their mouth. Marianne watches their hands move and motion, then eventually the needle goes in. It’s like the world stops. The curtains are closed, but Marianne is sure she would see birds floating in the air.

It happens so fast. They all watch the heart beat monitor. Héloïse says some final words then the line goes flat. The room starts to spin at the realization that Valeria has passed. Sophie starts to sob louder, the whines fill the quiet room. Marianne wraps her arms around a fragile Héloïse. She feels the blonde’s shoulders raise and fall like crashing waves into a shore. They become faster each breath she takes. Marianne holds her as tight as she can.

* * *

Héloïse fell asleep on the plane ride back to Paris. Her head resting on Marianne’s shoulder. Her face peaceful, no longer wet from tears and red from anger. The hours in between leaving the hospital to this exact moment was nothing but difficult. Héloïse quickly replaced her tears and sadness with anger, but not towards Marianne, or anyone in particular. She was angry at the world. Everywhere she walked, she set fire to the ground.

Marianne’s not scared of angry Héloïse. She expected the rage and fully prepared for it. All the sadness before was the calm before the storm. She’ll never admit it, but dealing with a provoked Héloïse is easier than if she were sad. Marianne has never been great with comforting others, even though it somehow feels natural with Héloïse. She still much prefers an angry Héloïse.

As the days go on, Héloïse grows angrier. She’s not taking it out on Marianne or anyone in particular, but her rage is towards the world. Each step she takes, the ground beneath her cracks. Her presence alone as a fiery aura that surrounds her. But despite all this anger, she’s always soft and tender towards her friends and especially towards Marianne. No matter what, Marianne finds herself loving this version of Héloïse. Though, time moves on and things start to return back to normal. Héloïse’s footsteps lighten and no longer shake the earth beneath her. Her fire is no longer fueled by anger and hatred, instead replaced by passion.

It’s the final day of class now. Marianne’s sitting in her final class of her final year. It finally is coming to an end and she couldn’t be happier. This past semester has been the highest and lowest point of her life. She has grown so much and come to terms with the tragedies in her life. When she looks back when she started this year, she doesn’t recognize herself. She was uncompromising, so closed off to the world, but she has broken out of the shell and she couldn’t be more thankful.

She sits in the same mundane lecture room, watching students funnel into the room, eager for the final class to end. Marianne waits, impatiently shaking her leg, eyes glued on the door for that one person. Marianne finds it weird that everyone has a smile on their face as they walk, but she understands it. She sits with a smile on her face and she knows that she looks goofy.

Her mood is immediately broken with a tap on her shoulder. She turns, her eyes turn to stone and her lips fall from the smile.

“Hey Marianne,” She remembers this guy. At the beginning of the semester, he asked if he could get reservations for the gallery. She stays silent, waiting for him to continue. “Do you think you could get me reservations for when the gallery changes the art?”

Marianne feels a hand touch her shoulder; her body relaxes. “Yeah, sure,” she answers with haste before turning back around.

Her lips upturn into a smile as her eyes lock with blue ones. They are so mesmerizing and still makes her stomach feels fluttery. “Hey babe,” The raspy voice says. Marianne’s bones turn to liquid.

“Hi,” She responds as Héloïse sits down beside her. She places a soft tender kiss on her lips.

“Let’s get out of here?”

And they do.

* * *

FIN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> all right hey everyone. i know this ending is rushed and shit and whatnot but i'm going to be real i had no desire finishing this fic. it was meant to have like 3 more chapters but i know if i would never finish it if i tried to write more. i am so sorry that i just left it like this, i really tried but i just got bored of it and i would rather finish it then leave you all hanging. I hope you guys liked it for what it was and forgive me for this terrible ending. i think my time is up on ao3, i wanted to start another fic but i doubt i'll have time to write anymore so for now, i will be sticking to one-shots if i do want to write. i hope you guys are all staying safe and have enjoyed the 2 fics that i have put out. for now, this is good bye. thank you all. 
> 
> scorned.
> 
> p.s follow me on twitter @adelhaenel xo


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